


Seeing the Light

by Dreamin



Series: Incubus!Sherlock [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Demon!lock, F/M, Romance, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-10-12 19:58:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10498404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Sherlock and Molly, now engaged, must save Sherlock's son Myrddin and break Sherlock's contract with Hell. They get a little help from Mycroft in the form of his assistant Anthea. Sequel to The Incubus in the Hallway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with more incubus!Sherlock goodness. For the sake of categorizing, I'm calling my version of Myrddin/Merlin an OMC. This is a work in progress. I'll try to get new chapters up weekly but no promises.

Molly Hooper woke to the feeling of soft lips kissing her neck. She smiled to herself. “Good morning, sexy.”

“Good morning, love,” Sherlock murmured between kisses.

She was laying on her side, her back to him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, his bare chest pressed against her back and his cock pressed against her bum. Ever since his proposal a month before, Molly had given up on wearing anything to bed since he ended up taking it off her anyway. Sherlock, of course, never wore anything to bed.

“Mmm, I see you’re wide awake,” she murmured.

“You know me, always an early riser.” His hand slid to her left breast, cupping it gently, his thumb stroking her nipple into hardness.

She moaned his name softly, her bum pressing back against his cock. She reached behind her to stroke it when her mobile rang. Both of them groaned.

“Don’t answer that,” he murmured in her ear.

“I have to see who it is.” She picked up the phone. “It’s Prof. Llewellyn.”

“Your father’s old friend?” Sherlock asked. He started kissing her shoulder.

Molly couldn’t help smiling. “Yes. Sorry, Sherlock, but I have to take this. Behave.” She batted his hands away then pushed the button. “Hello, Professor.”

“Molly, hello,” the old man said.  “I have something on Merlin.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you for calling me back. I’ll take any info you can give me.” She grabbed a small notepad and a pen from the nightstand.

“In Carmarthen, there’s an oak on the corner of Oak Lane and Priory Street. Huge, massive thing. It’s known as Merlin’s Oak, local legend says he planted it. It’s the only specific tree that I have been able to connect to him.”

Something resembling hope began to swell in Molly’s chest as she wrote down what he said. She’d been looking for any clues as to which tree Nimue had trapped Myrddin in and had been asking every Arthurian scholar her father had known, saying she was writing a romance novel about Merlin. “Professor, that may be just what I need to finish my book, thank you!”

The old man chuckled. “You’re welcome. Of course, you’ll have to hurry if you want to see it – it’s scheduled to be cut down next week.”

“What? Why?”

“Some ‘expert’ says it’s dying. It looks perfectly healthy to me, but the city council is worried it’ll drop a limb and crush someone. Better see it while you still can.”

“I will, Professor. Thank you.” She said goodbye then hung up. She turned to Sherlock and couldn’t help smiling at his disappointed look. “Sorry, love. But Prof. Llewellyn had good news – he found a tree in Wales that may be the one. But the tree’s going to be cut down next week so we have to go now.” She quickly got up and started to get dressed.

Sherlock groaned in frustration. “If it’s not going to be cut down for another week, what’s the hurry? Myrddin has waited almost a millennium and a half, he can wait another hour. I didn’t even get my good morning kiss.” His plush lips formed a pout. “That’s it, I’m banning phones from the bedroom.”

 _Four thousand years old and he pouts like a child._ Molly chuckled as she put on her bra and panties. “Nope, sorry, some calls are too important to miss.” She leaned to kiss him softly. He kissed her back eagerly and when he tried to pull her back into bed, she just laughed and moved away. “If you had been trapped in a tree for fourteen hundred years, wouldn’t you want someone to free you as soon as possible?”

Sherlock grumbled something and Molly stopped dressing to stare at him. _What is his problem? He sounds like he doesn’t want to find Myrddin. It makes no sense._ She pulled on her jeans then walked over to him just as he was pulling on his trousers.

“Love? What’s wrong?” Molly asked softly, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He sighed quietly as he wrapped his arms around her. “I keep wondering how Myrddin will react when he sees me. I’m sure his mother told him I’m an evil demon who seduced then abandoned her.”

“You’re changed, Sherlock.” She brought her hands up to frame his face, saying softly, “You’re a good man. He’ll see that.”

Sherlock lowered his head to kiss her deeply. “You’re the first person to believe in me, Molly,” he murmured. “I will always be grateful for that.”

She smiled softly. “You’ll get the chance to demonstrate your gratitude later, I promise.” She helped him into his shirt then pulled on her jumper as he pulled on his suit jacket.

“The fastest way to get there is to go through Hell.” He held out his hands, smiling a bit. “Ready?”

Molly took his hands. “As I’ll ever be.” They had taken Sherlock’s little shortcut once before. He had told her to keep her eyes closed but Molly hadn’t listened. The brief glimpse she’d had of Hell was enough to give her nightmares for days.

This time, she closed her eyes. There was a blast of heat then she felt heavy rain soaking her and heard a loud clap of thunder. Molly opened her eyes and found herself and Sherlock on a deserted street corner in the middle of a violent thunderstorm.

“We should’ve checked the weather in Carmarthen before we left,” Sherlock shouted above the storm.

“Too late now,” Molly shouted back.

He grasped her hand and lead her to the corner’s main landmark – an ancient oak tree. Just as they were approaching it, a bolt of lightning struck the tree, setting some of the leaves on fire. Sherlock and Molly jumped back, Molly covering her ears. After the rain had put the fire out, Sherlock approached the tree again, gesturing for Molly to stay where she was.  He examined the trunk, which was large enough to hold several people, then he turned to Molly and she could see his eyes were huge.

“He’s here, we have to get him out!” Sherlock shouted.

It suddenly occurred to Molly that she had spent so much time looking for Myrddin, but spent no time figuring out what they would do if they found him. “How do we free him?” she shouted back.

“We have to hope my blood and powers are enough!”

The fingernail of Sherlock’s left index finger extended to a claw, which he used to slash his right palm. Molly winced as dark red blood oozed from the wound. Sherlock slammed his bleeding palm against the trunk with all his might, shouting something that to Molly sounded like Latin, but it was hard to make out individual words in the storm.

White light shot out from under his hand then where the front of the trunk had been, there was now a man wearing black robes with long, scraggly brown hair and an equally long and scraggly beard. His eyes were closed but he opened them after a moment. Even from where Molly stood, she could see he had Sherlock’s eyes. He looked out at the rain-soaked street and buildings beyond and suddenly started to fall forwards in a dead faint. Sherlock caught him before he hit the ground. Holding Myrddin upright with one arm, he reached for Molly with his free hand. As soon as her hand touched his, there was another blast of heat then they were in the sitting room.

“We have to get him out of those wet robes,” Molly said.

“I’ll do that, you should change,” Sherlock said.

She peeled off her sodden jumper on the way to the bedroom. By the time she came back out in her pajamas, Sherlock had laid Myrddin on the sofa and had removed his robes, leaving him in a pair of white breeches. His skin was pale, like Sherlock’s own, and Molly could see scars from defensive wounds on his arms.

“Sherlock, let me take care of him,” she said gently. “You need to change.”

Sherlock, who had been staring at Myrddin like he didn’t know quite what to make of him, looked down at himself. He snapped his fingers and was dressed in a dry black suit and his aubergine dress shirt. Even his curls were dry.

Molly rolled her eyes fondly. _Showoff._ “Do you have something he can wear?”

Sherlock snapped his fingers again and Myrddin was dressed in Sherlock’s black pajamas. Molly looked him over.

“He looks like how I’d expect Merlin to look, but younger.” She looked up at Sherlock. “He has your eyes.”

He nodded. “And his mother’s hair.” He looked him over. “If he doesn’t wake up soon, I’ll take him to the guestroom.” He looked at Molly, saying gently, “I have no idea what state his mind’s in, love. The confinement could have taken his sanity. At the very least, he’ll think this is still the Seventh Century.”

“I assure you, Father, my mind is perfectly sound and I am well aware that this is the Twenty-first Century,” came a deep, tired voice from the sofa.

Sherlock and Molly turned in unison to the sofa. _He sounds just like Sherlock,_ Molly thought.

“You know who I am?” Sherlock asked, surprised.

Myrddin sat up slowly. “Of course. We’ve never met,” the accusatory tone in his voice was crystal clear, “but I would know you anywhere.”

“I spent a century of torment in Hell because I wasn’t there when you were born,” Sherlock said quietly. “As soon as I was released, I tried to find you. You were already in the tree by that time but I had no idea.”

“You gave up!” His hands were clenched into fists and Molly would swear she saw tiny bolts of lightning moving along them.

“You don’t know that,” she said defensively. “Sherlock was devastated that he never got to know you.”

Myrddin looked at her and Molly suppressed a shudder at the ice in his eyes. “I’m clairvoyant, Dr. Hooper. My mind can see everything happening in the world beyond what my eyes can see. I saw my father give up. For fourteen centuries, I waited for someone to find me. That it was my father’s ordinary fiancée who found the right tree is ironic.” He stood up and started to sway, but held up a staying hand when Sherlock tried to help him. Myrddin turned back to Molly. “I seriously doubt my relationship with my father will be repaired in time for your wedding.”

Molly stared at him in surprise then shook her head. “Is there anything you don’t know?”

“Very little. The future is hazy, but the past and present are crystal clear.” He looked down at his beard then a hand went up to his hair. “I need to clean up.”

“I’ll get Tom’s razor and the shears,” Molly said. She left the kitchen and walked to the bedroom. A black tail was sticking out from under the bed. Molly smiled to herself. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding.” Unlike her previous cat Toby, Devil didn’t like strangers. She found Tom’s straight razor in the cabinet under the bathroom sink and the shears her beautician mother had given her then walked back to the kitchen. Not for the first time, she silently thanked her late mother for teaching her how to cut hair when she was younger.

Sherlock and Myrddin were silently glaring at each other. Molly couldn’t help rolling her eyes. _Men._

“Molly, Myrddin is insisting on leaving,” Sherlock said.

“I have no reason to stay,” Myrddin said.

 _So much for gratitude._ “Don’t be silly, Myrddin,” Molly said firmly. “You’re family and we have a perfectly nice guestroom.” Myrddin started to protest but she cut him off. “This discussion is closed. Now c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up. The guest bathroom is this way.” She turned and headed down the hall. Behind her, she heard the two men talking.

“Is she always this … formidable?” Myrddin asked, sounding a bit dazed.

She heard Sherlock chuckle. “Yes, actually.”

Molly smiled to herself.

It took a good deal of effort on her part and “helpful” comments on Sherlock’s part, but eventually Myrddin was clean-shaven and his thick, straight brown hair had a modern cut and style. Molly suggested leaving the fringe in front but Myrddin insisted on slicking it back. She thought it made him look even more intimidating.

Molly looked back and forth at the two of them. With the short hair and no beard, Myrddin’s prominent cheekbones, inherited from Sherlock, were evident.

“You two look like brothers instead of father and son,” she said. “That’s probably the story we should tell people.”

Sherlock nodded. “We’ll say he’s staying with us for a while.”

“I’ll find my own place as soon as possible,” Myrddin said coldly. “Far be it from me to intrude on your privacy.”

“You need clothes,” Molly said, ignoring his comment. “I’m sure your father can lend you some until we can take you shopping. Right, Sherlock?” She smiled at her fiancé.

* * *

Sherlock idly wondered if he had gone back to Hell without realizing it. He was slumped in a chair by the men’s fitting rooms, bored out of his mind. His fiancée was standing beside him, waiting for Myrddin to come out.

“You could show a little enthusiasm, Sherlock,” Molly admonished gently.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “You know I hate shopping,” he muttered. “He could show a little gratitude. We did save his life, after all.”

“He spent fourteen hundred years by himself, maybe he forgot how to act around people.”

“Hey, you two,” came a familiar voice.

Both of them turned to see John and Mary approach. John was pushing a stroller and Mary was holding Rosie on her hip.

Molly smiled happily. “Hello, Watsons.”

“Fancy meeting you here,” John said, grinning. “Mary wanted to get me some new jumpers.”

“Something not so eye-searing,” Mary said, smirking. “Shopping for a new look, Sherlock?”

“Hardly,” Sherlock muttered as he stood up. The Watsons and Greg had become Sherlock’s friends too, though none of them were aware of his true nature. He couldn’t help smiling a bit at Rosie.

“They’re here for me,” Myrddin said as he came over, two pairs of jeans in his hands. He smirked at John and Mary’s double-take then held out his hand. “Merlin Holmes, Sherlock’s brother.” He used the surname Sherlock had given himself and Sherlock nodded in approval.

John shook his hand. “John Watson. This is my wife Mary and our daughter Rosie.”

Mary shook Myrddin’s hand. “I didn’t know Sherlock had another brother, I’ve only heard him mention Mycroft.”

“I’ve been out of the country for years,” Myrddin said, “and we didn’t communicate much. The airline lost my luggage, Sherlock and Molly are helping me find replacements.”

“That’s horrible,” Mary said sympathetically. “Thank God for family.”

“Indeed,” Myrddin muttered.

 _Sarcasm, my family’s native language,_ Sherlock thought, sighing. _Just behave yourself around our friends, that’s all I ask._

When the shopping was done, Mary suggested they go out to lunch together. After they were seated at a table, she smiled at Myrddin.

“So, Merlin, tell us about yourself. Are you a butler like Sherlock?”

“No, I’m a stock broker. I always have one eye on the future.”

Molly choked a bit on her drink but covered it with a cough. Sherlock smiled slightly.

“Are you seeing anyone?” John asked.

“No. My last relationship ended badly, I’ve been on my own since then.”

 _That’s one way of putting it,_ Sherlock thought.

“Perfect!” Mary said, beaming. “I have a friend who’s single.”

“Mary, Merlin just got to town,” Molly said. “I’m sure he wants to find his feet before he starts dating again.”

“ **If** I start dating again,” Myrddin said. “I think I should concentrate on other things right now.”

After lunch, the Watsons left to take Rosie to the park while Molly, Sherlock, and Myrddin went back to the flat. Myrddin took his new clothes to the guestroom and Sherlock decided to hunt down a recipe for dinner. He was deep in food.com when Molly came over to him.

“What do you think Myrddin’s plans are?” she asked. “I mean, King Arthur is long dead.”

“Not dead, Dr. Hooper, just sleeping,” Myrddin said as he entered the kitchen. He was wearing some of his new clothes – tight blue jeans, a red pullover jumper over a white t-shirt, and white trainers.

 _I can’t believe my son prefers casual clothes over suits,_ Sherlock thought, shaking his head.

“Until England has need of him again?” Molly guessed. “England has needed Arthur many times since the Sixth Century but he never came.”

“He will come at the time of England’s greatest need. Be grateful you haven’t seen it yet.”

“Have a care in how you speak to your future stepmother,” Sherlock said sternly.

Molly said quickly, “Sherlock, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. This is our home, I insist that he respect us while he’s here.”

“There’s an easy way to fix that,” Myrddin said. “I’ll leave.”

“No one’s leaving,” Molly said firmly. “Myrddin, if you can’t at least be civil, then you can be quiet.”

Myrddin looked at each of them and muttered something under his breath. “Very well. If you’ll excuse me.” He left the room.

Sherlock turned to Molly, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe we should have transplanted the tree instead.”

Molly just laughed.

* * *

“I have a job for you, my dear,” Mycroft, Anthea’s boss for over a century, said. He sat behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him.

“Yes, sir?” Anthea asked.

“My younger brother has finally seen the light but cannot break his contract with Hell. Considering how helpful you are to me, I thought you could assist him.”

Externally, Anthea didn’t so much as blink at his request, but internally she was screaming. After a moment to collect herself, she asked carefully, “Sir, wouldn’t I be of more use to you here?”

“Sherlock needs all the help he can get. Since I have far too much on my plate, you will take my place. This is not a request, Anthea.”

“How, exactly, do you think I can help him?”

“You’re a resourceful woman, I’m sure you’ll think of something. At the very least, you’ll be a valuable asset should violence erupt.” He smirked. “You’ll remember that I’ve seen you in battle.”

 _Yes, from the sidelines._ She was grateful to Mycroft for recruiting her from Heaven’s army, but now she wondered how long she’d be in his debt. “When do I leave, sir?”

“Momentarily. Of course, you’ll have to use a human form, we can’t have you blinding Sherlock’s mortal fiancée. You cannot take anything with you – you will be completely dependent on others’ generosity, like every other angel who visits Earth. And I will remind you not to give in to temptation – angels are above physical desires, after all.”

Anthea mentally rolled her eyes. _I’ve heard all of this since I was created._ “Yes, sir.”

Mycroft nodded. “Off you go. And do give my brother my best.”

“Yes, sir.” Anthea left his office, mentally treading on Mycroft’s smug face with each step she took. _Two days of dealing with paperwork himself and he’ll beg me to come back._ In the blink of an eye, she appeared in human form outside of Sherlock and Molly’s flat. She shrugged her shoulders, suddenly missing the weight of her wings between her shoulder blades, then looked at her hands. For the first time in her existence, she wasn’t glowing. _This is going to take some getting used to._

She took a deep breath then knocked on the door. She heard voices coming from within the flat then the door was opened by the very incubus she was sent to save.

Said incubus looked her over, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want, angel?” It wasn’t an endearment. “Did my brother send you?”

Anthea nodded. _Of course he didn’t tell Sherlock I was coming._ “Mycroft thought you needed an extra pair of hands. I’m Anthea.” She held out her hand.

He shook it. “Sherlock, but you already knew that.” He stepped aside.

She walked into the foyer and heard her stomach rumble loudly as she caught the scent of food coming from the kitchen. Sherlock chuckled as she blushed.

“First time in human form?” he asked, amused.

She nodded. “I was a soldier until your brother recruited me a century ago. This is my first mission on Earth.”

“A word of advice – enjoy yourself while you can.”

Anthea raised an eyebrow. “That’s exactly what I can’t do.”

“Who knows when you’ll be like this again? Don’t go back to Heaven with regrets.”

“Angels exist to be obedient, or has your time as a demon erased that from your memory?”

He smiled a bit. “Every angel has a little rebellion in them. Better to blow off steam here and return than spurn Heaven entirely out of built-up frustration.”

“Is that what happened to you?” she asked, curious.

“That would be telling,” Sherlock said, smirking. “C’mon.”

He led the way down the hall and into the kitchen, were a human woman Anthea recognized as Sherlock’s fiancée was skinning potatoes. She looked up when they came in.

“Molly, this is Anthea. Mycroft sent her to help us break my contract. Anthea, this is Molly Hooper, my fiancée.”

Molly held out her hand, smiling. “Hello, Anthea. We’re happy to have you on our side.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hooper.” She shook her hand.

“Please, call me Molly. Are you joining us for dinner?”

“Actually, she’ll be staying here,” Sherlock said.

Molly raised an eyebrow at him. “Um, love, we only have one guestroom and that is currently occupied.”

“I’m hoping Myrddin will be a gentleman and cede it to her.”

“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Anthea said.

“There’ll only be trouble if Myrddin’s not cooperative,” Sherlock said.

* * *

Myrddin lay on the bed in the guestroom, still fully-clothed. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering exactly what he was supposed to do next. _I need my own place, this flat is already stifling. Unfortunately, I have no money to my name. Father has plenty of money, those bank accounts of his go back a couple of centuries, and he would give me some if I asked. But the last thing I want is to be indebted to him._

The smell of food and the sound of more than just Sherlock and Molly’s voices caught his attention. Curious, he got up and walked to the kitchen. His father and future stepmother were talking to a woman with her back to him. Her brown hair was in a French twist and she wore all-white – blouse, pencil skirt, and heels. It was her scent, though, that really got his attention. _Incense and lilies? I know that scent._

“What the hell is an angel doing here?” he demanded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleeping arrangements are made and attractions flare while Sherlock tries to figure out why he can't break his contract with Hell.

“What the hell is an angel doing here?” Myrddin demanded.

The angel jumped slightly then turned to face him. Myrddin had never seen eyes that shade of silvery blue before. _Like liquid metal. I could lose myself in those eyes._ He mentally shook himself. “There is no reason for you to be here,” he said coldly.

She didn’t even blink. “You must be Myrddin Emrys. I’m Anthea. Your uncle sent me.”

“That’s fairly obvious, the question is why?”

“She’s here to help me break my contract with Hell,” his father said tersely.

“And since she’ll be staying with us for an indefinite amount of time,” Molly said sweetly, “your father and I were hoping you’d let her have the guestroom.”

“I was here first,” he said, ignoring the fact that he sounded like a spoiled child. “She can have the sofa. Or you and Father can let her have your bed and you sleep on the sofa.”

“I don’t want to cause trouble,” Anthea said. “I’m sure I can find accommodations elsewhere.”

“With what money?” Sherlock asked. “You have nothing but the clothes on your back.” He turned to Myrddin. “You, Myrddin, are going to do the gentlemanly thing and let her take the guestroom.”

“The hell I will,” he protested. _Now I sound like a spoiled teenager._

“Or I could simply throw you out,” Sherlock said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Enough,” Molly said firmly. “Anthea gets the guestroom and she will share the closet with Myrddin. Myrddin will sleep on the sofa.” She turned to Myrddin. “You will behave yourself or so help me, I’ll find a way to trap you in a telephone pole.”

Myrddin raised an eyebrow. “I truly believe you mean that, Dr. Hooper.”

“It’s Molly,” she said firmly.

“Very well, Molly, the angel can have the room,” he muttered. “It’s not like I will be staying long anyway.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Sherlock said, smirking, “who’s hungry?”

“Myrddin can set the table first,” Molly said. “I’m sure Anthea doesn’t want to get any food on her white clothes. C’mon, Anthea.” She led the angel down the hall.

Myrddin looked at his father. “What was your brother thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Sherlock admitted. “But I’m sure her value will become more apparent later. For now, let’s just go along with it.”

* * *

Anthea followed the petite human to the master suite and watched her pull a pair of women’s pajamas out of a drawer. Well, technically they were a woman’s size, but they were turquoise blue and covered with white kittens. Her bewilderment must have shown on her face because Molly smiled apologetically.

“Sorry, I have odd taste in sleepwear. They’ll be short and tight across the bust but they’ll do for a night.” She gave her the pajamas and her spare bathrobe. “The guestroom is down the hall, third door on the left. The guest bathroom is just across the hall from it.”

“Thank you.” Anthea took the borrowed pajamas and robe to the third door on the left and found a room with a double bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a closet, and a small writing desk and chair. She let her hair down then changed into the pajamas, finding they were indeed three inches too short in the pants and sleeves, and tight across her chest. _Like she said, it’s only for a night._ The robe wasn’t much better, but at least in it she felt less exposed. Anthea hung up her blouse and skirt in the closet, next to Myrddin’s pale gray hoodie and black leather coat, and put her white pumps next to a pair of his trainers.

When she found her way back to the kitchen, she found Sherlock and Molly talking. Myrddin could be seen in the adjoining dining room, setting the table.

Molly noted how small the pajamas and robe were on her. “I’ll take you shopping tomorrow.” She glanced at Sherlock. “I can say she’s my cousin if we run into anyone I know.”

Sherlock nodded. “Good idea.”

“I can’t let you lie for me,” Anthea said, aghast.

“Better a lie than have you and Molly institutionalized,” Myrddin said from the other room. “No one will believe you’re an angel, they’ll think you’re mad.”

Anthea looked to Molly and Sherlock for confirmation. At their nods, she said quietly, “Very well.”

“Have a seat, everyone,” Sherlock said.

Molly led the way to the formal dining room. The table could seat six but was set for four, two on each side. Molly and Sherlock sat on one side, Anthea and Myrddin on the other. Sherlock served the roasted pork, mashed potatoes and gravy, and asparagus spears. Everyone started eating. Anthea took one bite of pork and couldn’t hold back a moan, it was that good. The other three looked at her with varying degrees of amusement.

She blushed. “Sorry, I’ve never had food before.”

Molly asked, curious, “What do angels live on?”

“Light,” Anthea said simply. “Things like eating are foreign to us.”

“Eat up,” Sherlock said, giving her an extra portion of pork. “Food is an innocent indulgence.” He grinned. “Well, my desserts aren’t so innocent, but you get the idea.”

Molly poured everyone a glass of white wine, but she only gave Anthea half a glass. “You’ve never had alcohol before, so we’ll start you off slow.”

“Thank you.” She took a small sip and smiled. “This is good too.”

Molly smiled. “Good. We’ll make a gourmand out of you yet.” She turned to Sherlock, smiling a bit. “We’re doing pretty well on our pre-wedding To Do list. Item one was ‘break our contract.’ The mark hurt more coming off than going on, but it was worth it. Item two, ‘save Myrddin,’ is complete. On to item three?”

Sherlock nodded. “’Break the contract with Hell.’ I’ve tried to contact my superior, James, the Prince of Pandemonium, multiple times but he refuses to respond.”

“Maybe he’s too busy ruling the capital of Hell,” Myrddin said.

“He’s found time to send me orders. I’ve refused them all, which should have gotten me a one-way ticket back to Hell and years of torture, but so far, nothing.”

“What do you think that means?” Molly asked worriedly.

“Something’s coming,” Sherlock said quietly. “James and I have never gotten along. Even before the Fall, he was overdramatic and theatrical – whatever he has planned for me, it’s big.”

“What could he gain from keeping you bound?” Molly asked.

“Since I’m refusing to work for him, not much.”

“You would be denied entrance into Heaven if you’re still bound to Hell,” Anthea reminded him. “Could that be what he wants, to keep you apart from Molly? Mycroft told me she is destined for Heaven.”

“If that’s what he wants, he wouldn’t get his payoff for years,” Sherlock said. “James was never that patient. No, whatever he’s after, it’s something much more immediate.”

“Perhaps he intends to kill Molly,” Myrddin said. “That would deprive you of her now and the contract would keep you from reuniting with her in Heaven.”

Molly’s face paled and Sherlock placed a reassuring hand over hers. He glared at Myrddin. “I had thought of that, yes, but I didn’t want to mention it in front of Molly.”

“Is it this hard for every demon to break their contract?” Molly asked quietly.

Sherlock gently squeezed her hand. “To be honest, I’ve never heard of another demon breaking the contract, but it’s not exactly the kind of thing Hell would want to make public. I’ll have to ask the demons who are still speaking to me if they’ve heard.”

While they were talking, Anthea found she really enjoyed the pork and the potatoes, but one bite of the asparagus had her making a face. Myrddin chuckled as she took another bite and made the same face.

“You don’t need to eat it if you don’t like it,” he murmured, smirking.

“I don’t?” she asked, surprised. “I don’t want to be impolite.”

“It’s fine, Anthea,” Molly said, smiling gently. “If you don’t like it, don’t eat it. You’ll find other things to like.”

Myrddin said, grinning evilly, “Being impolite would be doing something like this.”

He took a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes and flicked it at Sherlock. The white glob bounced off the incubus’ nose and landed in his wine glass, splashing white wine over his plate and aubergine dress shirt.

Molly jumped back instinctively. “Myrddin, that’s not funny!”

Anthea worriedly turned to Sherlock, who hadn’t reacted to the prank except to change his shirt once again, this time to his teal blue one. He steepled his hands in front of his face, not looking at his son. A moment later, Myrddin noticed something was blocking the light above him. He looked up just as a multi-layered confection of crepes, caramel, whipped cream, and bananas landed on his face.

Myrddin sputtered as crepes fell from his face on to his shirt, his lap, the table, and finally the floor, leaving trails of caramel and whipped cream. There were banana slices in his hair and on his shoulders and whipped cream and caramel all over his face. Molly took one look at him and started giggling. Sherlock just grinned evilly.

Anthea murmured, dismayed, “Oh no…” _That would have been a lovely dessert, such a pity…_

Myrddin glared at Sherlock but Sherlock’s grin only widened. “Don’t mess with the master, son.”

The world’s greatest wizard got up and stormed out of the room, trailing banana slices as he went.

“I’ll help him clean up,” Anthea said as she got up and followed him. Behind her, she could hear Sherlock and Molly talking.

“Look at this mess… I hope you have something else for dessert,” Molly said.

“There’s Ben & Jerry’s in the freezer,” Sherlock said.

“Chocolate Therapy?” she asked hopefully.

“That, Half Baked, Chunky Monkey, and Cherry Garcia.”

_Are those words supposed to make sense together?_ Anthea thought, confused.

* * *

Myrddin was tossing banana slices he’d picked off his clothes and out of his hair into the trashcan in the guest bathroom when he heard a knock on the door.

“Go away, Anthea,” he muttered.

The door opened and Anthea came in, smiling a bit. “How did you know it was me, the clairvoyance?”

“Process of elimination,” he said, turning back to the mirror over the sink. “Father wouldn’t have come after me and I’m sure Molly’s too busy cleaning up what I left in the dining room, so that leaves only you. And you are as bad at listening as I am.” He wet a washcloth and started wiping the mess off his face.

“Here, let me.” She took the washcloth from him and slid in between him and the sink. With her free hand on his shoulder, she started to gently wipe away the food.

Her eyes were on her task but Myrddin still found himself unable to look away from them. _I’ve only met a couple of angels but none of them were this … enchanting._

Once she had wiped the mess off his face and neck, she looked at his hair in dismay. “You’re going to need a shower.”

“If you insist,” he said, grinning wickedly. He pulled off his dirty jumper and t-shirt, grinning even wider when Anthea blushed at the sight of his bare chest. “Care to join me?”

She blushed brighter. “Why don’t you just use your magic to clean up?”

“Magic is physically demanding. I may be the most powerful wizard in history, but I’d rather save it for when I really need it.” He slowly, teasingly ran his hands up and down her arms. On the skin of her arms that was bared by the too-short sleeves, he could see her getting goosebumps. His grin wasn’t going away any time soon, and neither apparently was her blush. “Besides, why use magic when getting wet is a lot more fun?”

“I … um … I have to go,” she said quietly, not meeting his eyes.

Myrddin let go and watched her leave the bathroom in a hurry, closing the door behind her. He smirked. _At least I have a pretty little distraction while I’m here._

* * *

Molly looked up from the dishes to see Anthea practically run into the kitchen. The angel’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wide.

“Anthea? What’s wrong?” Molly asked gently. “I thought you were going to help Myrddin get cleaned up.”

“I was … I did. I cleaned off his face but he still had food in his hair. I told him he needed a shower then he, um, he took his jumper off and asked if I wanted to join him.” Her blush deepened.

“Ah,” Molly said, understanding. “Myrddin’s half-incubus, he’s bound to be flirty. If he ever says or does something you don’t like, just say no and walk away.”

“Then tell me,” Sherlock said as he came into the room. “I’ll teach him a lesson.”

“You don’t understand, I liked it,” Anthea said as she looked down at her hands, ashamed.

Molly went over to her and gently took her hands. “There’s nothing wrong with liking it when someone flirts with you, Anthea.”

“I’m not here for that,” she said firmly. “I’m here only to help Sherlock. I shouldn’t even notice how physically appealing Myrddin is.” Her blush had started to fade but it flared back to life again.

“That’s my cue to leave,” Sherlock said. He left the room, shaking his head a bit.

Molly laughed softly. “Well, that got him out of here in a hurry, but never mind about Sherlock. If you want to look at Myrddin, go ahead and look. If you want to do more than that, I’m sure he wouldn’t object.”

“I shouldn’t…” Anthea looked more torn than Molly had ever seen anyone look.

“What happens on Earth stays on Earth,” Molly said, smiling gently. “You won’t be here forever, you should enjoy yourself while you can.”

“Sherlock told me the same thing.”

“Well, there you go. Why don’t you go talk to Myrddin?”

“And say what?” Anthea smiled weakly. “‘I’m a virgin who’ll only be on Earth for a short time, fancy a shag?’”

Molly giggled. “If you put it that way, he’d probably say yes. Just tell him you like him and you’d like to get to know him. No need to bring up virginity or shagging just yet.”

“I don’t know…” She sighed quietly. “I think I’ll just go to bed.”

“It’s early.”

She shrugged helplessly. “I have a lot to think about.”

“Alright.” Molly smiled gently. “You can always come to me if you need help or just want to talk.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Anthea said. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Anthea.”

The angel left the room just as the incubus walked back in. He smiled a bit. “Now that you’re done discussing my son’s sex life, how about a movie?”

Molly grinned. “Okay, anything but drama, I’ve had enough of that for one day.”

Sherlock smirked. “As long as you’re okay with romance – I have plans for tonight.”

“Please,” Molly said, smiling, “you know I can’t resist you.”

He wrapped his arms around her, grinning. “Good, since I can’t resist you either.”

* * *

Anthea lay on the bed in the guestroom with the lights still on, the incident in the bathroom playing over and over in her head. _Why can’t I just do what we both want? Sherlock and Molly both said I should just enjoy myself while I’m here_. She sighed quietly. _It’s the consequences that are stopping me. If anyone finds out, I would lose my position. And if they thought my actions were serious enough, I could be kicked out of Heaven entirely._

_But don’t you think a night with Myrddin would be worth it?_ a small voice in her head asked.

_Worth getting in trouble, maybe, but not worth losing the only home I’ve ever known_. She turned onto her side, facing the wall. _If he were more of a jerk, it would be easier to resist him._

The door opened and she looked up to see Myrddin come into the room wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, the towel barely big enough to cover him. His damp hair was combed back and drops of water still trailed down his body.

Anthea sat up and stared at him, her cheeks flaming. _He’s gorgeous…_

“Don’t mind me,” Myrddin said, not looking at her. He went over to the closet and started poking around on his side.

Anthea found herself mesmerized by the play of muscles on his back. “Myrddin, I’m in bed. You could have knocked.”

He turned to her, grinning. “I knew you weren’t doing anything but laying there. With the lights on, I might add. Believe me, if I knew you were touching yourself, I would have knocked, then I would have offered to join you.”

“Myrddin!” she gasped, and she could feel her entire face was red.

He approached the bed, his grin widening. “Do that again,” he murmured.

Anthea’s eyes widened. “Do what again?”

Myrddin sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at her. “Say my name like I had just gotten you off.”

She looked down at her hands, his hands, anywhere but those intense blue-green-gold eyes. “That’s not even close to what happened.”

He chuckled. “You’re right, you said my name because I offended you, but you can’t blame me for pretending.”

“You didn’t offend me, you surprised me.” She idly traced the swirling pattern on the bedspread with her finger.

“Is that so?” He brought a hand to her chin, raising it until her eyes met his. “Does that mean you wouldn’t object to touching yourself while I watched? Or letting me touch you?”

“I… Could we get to know each other first?”

Myrddin smiled a bit. “Alright, we’ll go the ‘friends first’ route.”

He leaned closer and just as Anthea thought he was going to kiss her lips, he kissed her cheek. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

“Let me put something on and we can talk.”

He stood up and walked back to the closet, causing Anthea to let out a small squeak of surprise when she saw the towel didn’t go with him. Her fingers itched to touch his perfect arse, and that desire didn’t lessen when he put on a pair of royal blue pajama pants. Myrddin walked back over to the bed with the pajama top in his hand, grinning.

“I thought you’d like that,” he said as he sat down.

_Is it possible to spontaneously combust from blushing too much?_ She waved a hand at the pajama top. “Aren’t you going to put that on?”

“No, I’m not cold and I like seeing you blush. However, I think you might be more comfortable in it than Molly’s. Too big is always better than too small.”

“Right…” She picked up the pajama top. “Could you turn around?”

“I could…” he drawled, grinning.

“Myrddin…”

He chuckled then turned his back to her. She quickly took off Molly’s top then put on Myrddin’s. _He’s right, this is much more comfortable. “_ Alright.”

He turned back to her, grinning again. “I like the look of you in my clothes, Anthea.” She blushed again then he laid down and put his head in her lap. “What do you want to know about me?”

It took her a moment to get over her surprise at suddenly having a lapful of very attractive wizard. “What did you do to Nimue to make her put you in that tree?”

“You know about that, huh?” He sighed.                       

“Mycroft has kept watch on all of Sherlock’s progeny. You’re the only one left.”

“What makes you think I did something?” Myrddin asked, sounding a bit defensive.

“She could have killed you. Trapping you for eternity instead sounds personal.” Without permission from her brain, her fingers started to idly play with his hair.

He sighed quietly. “Not all magic is innate, a lot of it comes from study. Nimue was my protégé. She was a fast learner. Too fast, really. She wanted to learn magic that was too advanced for her. I refused to teach her, that’s when she trapped me.”

“You did nothing else? You didn’t spurn her advances?”

Myrddin chuckled. “Believe me, I loved her advances. I’m half-incubus, after all. No, not teaching her what she thought she had a right to learn was enough.”

_What did she do after that?_ “Is she still alive?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I could see the whole world while I was in the tree, but I never saw her. She must have blocked herself from my sight. Spells like the one she used to trap me normally end when the caster dies, so in theory she’s still alive.”

“What would you do if you saw her again?” Anthea asked gently.

“I thought about that a lot while I was waiting,” he said quietly. “I’d trap her somewhere small and make sure she can’t get out.”

“That sounds awfully … petty. Couldn’t you be the better person and forgive her?”

“Forgive?” he asked in disbelief. “If my father and Molly hadn’t freed me, I would have died when the tree was cut down. She knew my life was dependent on that tree. As far as I’m concerned, she put me in it fully expecting me to die there. No, she doesn’t deserve my forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness isn’t about her, it’s about you,” she said softly. “It’s letting go and moving on.”

“She stole fourteen hundred years from me,” he muttered. “How am I supposed to move on from that?”

“By making the most of your freedom.”

“That brings us back to my earlier question,” he murmured. He gently took one of her hands and kissed her knuckles.

Anthea shivered. “Sex isn’t the only way to celebrate your freedom.”

“Maybe not, but it’s the best way.” He kissed the inside of her wrist.

“Myrddin…” She wasn’t sure if she was warning him to stop or asking him to continue, she just knew his name came out a lot more breathless than she intended.

“Mmm, just keep saying my name, baby,” he murmured, tilting his head to grin up at her. “It’ll fuel my fantasies later.”

She laughed softly, her cheeks flaming anew. “Am I ever going to stop blushing around you?”

“I hope not,” he said sincerely. He sat up, bringing one hand to stroke her cheek. “If I can’t make you blush even a little bit, that means I no longer have any affect on you, and that would be a tragedy.”

Anthea sighed softly as she leaned into his hand. “Myrddin, I…”

“Yes?” he murmured.

She smiled at him regretfully. “I think it’s time for us to say goodnight.”

He sighed heavily. “You’re probably right. I’ll have to settle for seducing the sweetest angel another time.” He smiled at her hopefully.

Anthea laughed softly. “Yes, another time.”

Myrddin softly kissed her forehead. “I know I’m going to have good dreams tonight, what about you?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling softly. “I’ll dream of a handsome wizard who’s looking to win the favor of a maiden fair.”

“And I’ll dream of a maiden fair who wants the handsome wizard to help her stop being a maiden.” He grinned at her.

She laughed softly. “Goodnight, Myrddin.”

“Goodnight, Anthea.” He stood up then bent to kiss her cheek. She blushed once more and he was grinning when he left the guestroom.

* * *

Molly was sitting on the sofa, playing with her fiancé’s curls as he lay with his head in her lap while they watched _The Wizard of Oz_. Sherlock was saying something about the symbolism of the movie, but all Molly could concentrate on was how good he smelled and how soft his hair was.

Sherlock chuckled. “Molly, did you actually hear any of that?”

“Hmm?” She blushed a bit at being caught. “Sorry, Sherlock. I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have such an attractive husband-to-be.”

Sherlock grinned up at her. “You’re forgiven, then.” He reached up and took her left hand, rubbing his thumb over her bare ring finger. “I’m still looking for just the right ring.”

“You’ll find it,” she said confidently. “We still have seven months until the wedding, you’ve got plenty of time.”

He kissed her hand. “You truly are the perfect woman for me, Molly.”

She smiled down at him softly. “And you’re the perfect man for me.”

“If you two are done declaring your mutual perfection,” Myrddin drawled from the doorway, “I’d like to go to bed.”

Both of them looked up at him. Sherlock sat up, one eyebrow raised. “Do I want to know where the top half of those pajamas is?”

Myrddin grinned. “Anthea’s wearing it.”

“Myrddin…” Sherlock’s warning tone was more of a growl.

The wizard held up his hands, still grinning. “She’s fine, I didn’t touch her. I just gave her the top because it would be more comfortable than Molly’s.”

“He’s got a point, Sherlock,” Molly said. She got up and went into the hallway, taking a pillow and blanket from the linen closet then walking back to the sitting room and giving them to Myrddin. “If you need an extra blanket, it’s in the closet.”

Myrddin nodded. “Should I expect a visit from your cat?”

Molly smiled a bit. “No, he’s scared of strangers, he’s been holed up in our room all day.”

“But I plan to kick him out,” Sherlock said. “I don’t like an audience. So you may get a visit after all.”

Myrddin snickered. “Right. Have fun.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he stood up. “Goodnight, Myrddin.”

“Goodnight, Myrddin,” Molly said.

“Goodnight, you two.”

“Should we worry about Myrddin and Anthea?” Molly asked as they were in their room, getting ready for bed.

“Not for tonight,” Sherlock said, smiling a bit.

“Sherlock…”

“As long as they’re careful, Anthea shouldn’t suffer any repercussions. Angels are expected to be pure. If Heaven finds out she had an affair, especially with a campion, there would be consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?”

“At the very least, she would lose her position as Mycroft’s assistant.”

“What’s the worst that could happen to her?”

“She would be thrown out of Heaven.” He sighed heavily. “I can’t begin to tell you how painful that would be for her. I **chose** to leave and I still regret it. To be rejected by your home, your family, with no hope of ever returning … there is no greater loss.”

Molly gently wrapped her arms around him. “We’ll find a way to get you back there, Sherlock. And if Anthea is rejected, can she stay with us?”

He smiled softly. “Of course, love.” Sherlock held her close. “You have the biggest heart, Molly. I’m grateful you gave it to me.”

“I couldn’t have given it to anyone else,” she murmured, then smiled a bit. “It’s been yours since the first time I tried your cooking.”

Sherlock chuckled. “And here I thought it was mine since you saw me wearing nothing but an open dressing gown.”

“Oh God,” Molly said, laughing. She could feel her cheeks turn pink. “I still blush a little every time I think of that. It was quite a sight, but it doesn’t beat your cooking.”

“Hmm, maybe I should go make you a snack instead of making love to you.”

“I didn’t say that.” She grinned at him.

Sherlock grinned back and was about to kiss her when they heard purring coming from under the bed. Both of them laughed then Molly retrieved Devil. “Sorry, little guy, but you’re leaving.” She opened the door and set him down in the hallway then quickly closed the door before he could come back in. Molly approached Sherlock, murmuring, “Where were we?”

“Being interrupted while we were making up for being interrupted this morning,” he said, grinning.

“Ah, now I remember.” She gently pulled his head down to kiss him deeply.

Sherlock returned the kiss then pulled back long enough to relieve her of her jumper and bra. Molly helped him out of his suit jacket and shirt then kissed him again as she undid his belt. Apparently, she wasn’t moving fast enough for him – he snapped his fingers and his trousers and boxers vanished, as well as her jeans and panties. His cock was fully erect and the sight was enough to make her weak-kneed.

“Convenient,” she murmured, grinning.

“Impatient,” he growled, his irises blazing red.

Molly knew those eyes would scare anyone else, but all she could feel was mounting desire for her fiancé. _One of these days, I’m going to convince him to make love to me in full-on demon mode._ She climbed onto the bed and got on her hands and knees, spreading her knees wide and gasping as the cool air hit her exposed sex.

She felt the bed dip as Sherlock kneeled behind her. One hand started to stroke her bum and the other moved between her legs. Molly jumped as his fingers stroked her swollen clit.

“Oh God…” she breathed.

“Close,” he murmured. Two of his fingers slid into her opening. “You’re so wet for me, Molly…”

“You’re so sexy,” she murmured, “sometimes all it takes is just hearing your voice and I’m wet.”

“Mmm, for me, it’s a certain look you get in your eyes and I’m hard as a rock.” He moved his hand from her bum to her hip and started to thrust his fingers inside her slowly. “You’re my weakness, Molly.” His thumb brushed her clit.

Molly groaned, bowing her head. “And you’re mine, Sherlock… God, please, fuck me…” She felt him remove his fingers and replace them with just the tip of his cock. Molly was done being teased. “Sherlock!”

Sherlock chuckled, the sound dancing across her nervous system just as it always had, then he slid into her fully. “God…” he groaned as he started to thrust slowly and deeply.

Molly clutched the sheet beneath her, moaning his name over and over as the pleasure steadily built inside her with every thrust. She was teetering on the edge when she felt Sherlock’s fingers on her clit and the orgasm that hit her was so strong, she saw stars.

Sherlock continued to thrust into her until he reached his own climax, growling her name. He leaned over her, softly kissing her shoulder blades and the space between as his breathing and hers returned to normal. Once they had both calmed down, he slid out then laid beside her. Molly laid her head on his shoulder, one hand on his heart. Sherlock held her close.

“We did well today,” he murmured.

She nodded, stifling a yawn. “Yes, we saved a wizard and took in an angel. Just a normal day for a pathologist and her incubus fiancé.”

Sherlock chuckled. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Molly softly kissed his neck. “Goodnight, sexy.”

“Goodnight, love.” He kissed her hair and Molly drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pandemonium is the capital of Hell in Milton's "Paradise Lost." It also means chaos. I couldn't resist calling James Moriarty the Prince of Pandemonium.  
> Arienhod mentioned a headcanon -- "Molly developed a kink for Sherlock in his demon form." We'll see that come to fruition later. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finishes one quest and Myrddin starts his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After multiple rewrites, this chapter is finally done. I apologize for the wait.

Sherlock held Molly until he could tell she was deeply asleep. He then carefully got out of bed and pulled on his pajamas and dressing gown before heading to the office. Needing only half the amount of sleep that Molly did meant either they fell asleep together and he was up hours before her, or he left after she fell asleep, kept himself occupied for a few hours, then went back to bed so they could wake up together.

He smiled fondly just as he had every time he entered the office. Just two days after they became engaged, Molly had surprised him by redecorating it so there were now two desks. He sat down at his and turned on his laptop, smiling again when a photo of both of them came up as his wallpaper. _I truly am the luckiest man,_ he thought.

Sherlock was scrolling through yet another engagement ring site when he heard movement in the hallway. He rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that it’s rude to lurk, Myrddin.”

His son stood in the doorway, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Sherlock turned in his chair to face him. “If I were a more responsible father, I’d ask you what your intentions towards Anthea are, but as it is, I will just tell you to be careful.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I am an adult and I know what I’m doing,” Myrddin said defensively.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Then I will be a more responsible father – what are your intentions towards Anthea?”

“Just a little fun,” he said, shrugging. “Neither of us are going to be here long, we might as well enjoy ourselves.”

“This can’t be a no-strings-attached fling, Myrddin,” Sherlock said firmly. “Anthea is risking everything and you’re risking nothing at all. If your hearts aren’t involved, don’t bother.”

Myrddin raised an eyebrow and Sherlock was struck once again by how alike they looked. “You should talk. How many women have you seduced over the years?”

“None of them risked getting expelled from Heaven for being with me,” he pointed out. “Your relationship with Anthea has to be all or nothing.”

His son didn’t say anything for a minute, then two. Finally, Myrddin said quietly, “I think her heart is already involved, at least a little bit. She likes me, though God knows why.”

_Poor girl,_ Sherlock thought. “What about yours?”

He shrugged again. “I like her. She’s beautiful,” he smiled a bit, “especially when she blushes. She’s sweet. She’s exactly the kind of woman I could fall for, but I’m not going to. I’ve been burnt once, I don’t need to go through that again.”

Sherlock couldn’t help a smile. “I doubt Anthea has the ability to trap you in an oak for fourteen hundred years, but you never know.”

Myrddin chuckled. “I promise not to hurt her. I’ll only go as far as she’s willing to go, and we’ll be discrete.”

“I should probably tell you to stay away from her entirely,” Sherlock said, “but I know that would fall on deaf ears. What would you do if she is expelled?”

“I know you expect me to say something like ‘marry her,’ but that isn’t going to happen. I have no interest in marriage – I was trapped once, I don’t intend to be trapped again.” Seeing Sherlock’s expectant look, he sighed heavily. “Look, if she is expelled, I’ll … make it up to her somehow.”

“I would expect nothing less.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “Now shoo, I need to find a ring for Molly.”

Myrddin came over to look at his laptop and smiled a bit. “Just get a custom-made one.”

Sherlock stared at his son. _Why the hell didn’t I think of that?_

“Goodnight, again.” Myrddin left, laughing to himself.

Sherlock made a mental note to look into custom rings later as he turned off the laptop and went back to the bedroom. He didn’t need to turn on the light – the moonlight shining through the window was more than enough for him to see by. It was far too early for him to sleep so he undressed and slipped into bed. Grabbing Molly’s copy of _Jane Eyre_ from his nightstand, he picked up where he’d left off. At one point, Molly cuddled to him without waking up. Sherlock just smiled to himself, wrapped an arm around his fiancée, and kept reading.

* * *

The next morning, Sherlock and Molly walked into the kitchen and grinned. Over in the sitting room, they could see Myrddin asleep on his side on the sofa, Devil curled on his hip.

“Aww, aren’t they sweet?” Molly murmured, not wanting to disturb them.

“Not the word I would use,” Sherlock said loudly.

Molly tried to shush him but he just grinned wider. Myrddin didn’t stir. Devil did, though. He jumped down then went straight to Molly, looking up at her expectantly. She obediently filled his bowl with dry kitten food.

“Always nice to have a cat around to remind you of your place,” Molly said, smirking. She got the coffee started.

Sherlock chuckled as he put on his red Kiss The Cook apron and started making French toast. “I’m afraid if it’s love you’re looking for, you’ll have to settle for your fiancé.”

Molly stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, grinning. “You’re quite right – I’ll just have to settle for my brilliant, handsome, talented, sensitive, thoughtful, and sweet fiancé.”

Sherlock grinned and felt his cheeks redden with each word. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me.”

“Good morning. Am I interrupting something?” Anthea asked from the doorway, smiling a bit. Unlike the pajama-clad affianced couple, she was dressed in her white clothes from the day before, holding her borrowed pajama top.

Molly grinned at her. “Good morning. The only thing going on here is me seeing how red and adorable I can make Sherlock just by telling him the truth.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, his cheeks still a bit pink. “How many slices of French toast would you like, Anthea?”

“I’ve never had it. How many do people normally eat?”

Molly grinned. “We’ll start you out with two, but considering that it’s Sherlock’s French toast, you’re going to want more.”

Anthea smiled a bit. “Dinner was delicious, so I’m sure you’re right.” She looked over at Myrddin, who was still asleep. “I wanted to give Myrddin back his shirt.”

“See if you can wake him up,” Sherlock said. He gave Molly her first two slices, which she took to the peninsula and started eating hungrily.

Anthea walked over to the sofa, softly calling Myrddin’s name. He didn’t stir. She laid a hand on his bare shoulder. His eyes shot open and he grinned up at her.

“I thought I heard an angel calling me,” he murmured. He sat up then took her hand and kissed it, grinning as Anthea blushed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Behave yourself, Myrddin,” he said.

“Just saying good morning,” Myrddin said.

Anthea smiled at him. “Good morning. Here.” She offered him the pajama top.

“Keep it,” he said, smiling. “You look better in it anyway.”

“No shirt, no service,” Sherlock declared.

“Besides, Anthea and I are going shopping after breakfast,” Molly said.

“Pity,” Myrddin said, letting go of her hand so he could put the shirt on.

“Coffee’s ready,” Molly said. “Myrddin, how do you take it?”

“Black, two sugars,” he said, smirking when Sherlock turned to stare at him. “Yeah, that’s how you take it, I know. Since I’ve never had it, I thought I’d try it your way first.”

Molly chuckled. “Isn’t it nice when sons take after their fathers? What about you, Anthea?”

“I’ve never had it either.”

“We’ll start you on coffee without anything in it. You can add cream and sugar until you like the taste.” Molly smiled a bit. “I first started drinking it at uni. It took me several days to find the right combination at the local coffeeshop, but it shouldn’t take you more than a cup or two.”

“Alright,” Anthea said.

She and Myrddin sat at the peninsula across from Molly. Sherlock put plates of French toast in front of them and Molly passed the powdered sugar and maple syrup to them. Myrddin put generous amounts of both on his, earning a raised eyebrow from his father as he came over with his own plate and sat next to Molly.

“Aiming for a sugar high, are we?” Sherlock asked.

Myrddin chuckled as he started to eat. “Big sweet tooth. It’s probably why I like Anthea so much.”

Anthea blushed again, smiling. “Myrddin…”

He grinned at her. “Just telling the truth.” He sipped his coffee, made a face, then added another sugar cube and took another sip. “Much better.”

Anthea took a sip of her black unsweetened coffee. “Mmm, this is good the way it is.” The other three stared at her and her eyes widened. “Did I do something wrong? Does no one drink it this way?”

“Some people do,” Molly said reassuringly, “just not many. There’s no right or wrong way to take your coffee, however you like it is fine.”

“Try the French toast,” Myrddin said. “It makes me think my father missed his calling.”

Molly grinned. “He’s definitely the best personal chef I’ve ever had.”

Sherlock smirked at her. “I would be flattered except I’m the only personal chef you’ve ever had.”

She laughed then leaned to kiss him softly. “You’re still the best.”

Anthea drizzled syrup on her French toast then took a few bites and nodded. “This really is good.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said, smiling. “What are everyone’s plans for today?”

“Anthea and I are going shopping and we’ll probably go out for lunch,” Molly said.

“Need any help?” Myrddin asked, grinning. “I can carry the bags for you.”

“Thank you, Myrddin,” Anthea said, smiling a bit, “but I think we can handle a few bags.”

“Don’t you have something you should be doing?” Sherlock asked him pointedly.

Myrddin smiled a bit. “You’re right, I need to start my search for Arthur.”

“Isn’t he in Avalon?” Molly asked.

“Yes, but Avalon moves.” At her confusion, Myrddin went on. “Avalon is in another dimension and is connected to ours by a portal. The problem is that the portal slowly shifts from one place to another. In my time, it was in Glastonbury. I have no idea where it would be now. It might be in the Channel for all I know.”

“Could the portal have collapsed?” Anthea asked.

“Let’s hope not. Making a new one would probably kill me.”

“How would you go about finding it?” Sherlock asked.

Myrddin smiled a bit. “The internet. People report strange phenomena all the time. I know what reports to look for.”

“Can’t you just find it with your clairvoyance?” Molly asked.

“I can only see our dimension in my mind,” he said. “The portal is a door between dimensions, so it’s literally out of sight.”

“Well, maybe your father can help you look for those reports,” Molly said.

“It could be interesting,” Sherlock admitted. “I’m still not getting anywhere with Hell, so I might as well do something productive.”

“Good!” Molly said happily. “The women will shop and the men will look for the long-lost King of Camelot.”

* * *

An hour later, Molly and Anthea were sitting on a bench outside the store they had just conquered when Molly heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, Molly,” Greg said, smiling as he approached them.

Molly stood up, smiling. “Hi, Greg.”

“Who’s this?” he asked, smiling at Anthea, who stood up.

“Anthea, this is Greg, one of my oldest friends. Greg, this is my cousin, Anthea.”

Greg held out his hand, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Anthea. I didn’t think Molly had any family left.”

Anthea shook his hand and was about to say something when Molly jumped in. “She’s my second cousin. She’s on holiday and forgot to bring the right kind of clothes for London weather.”

Anthea smiled a bit. “I live in Los Angeles, I’m used to having no weather at all.”

Greg chuckled. “Do you need help with those bags?” He indicated the four shopping bags between them.

Molly smiled a bit. “I think we can handle them but thanks, Greg.”

“Do you have any plans for tonight, Anthea?” Greg asked. “I could show you around, I’m sure London has changed since you were here last.”

“It’s kind of you to offer but Sherlock is making dinner for us,” Anthea said. “Perhaps another time?”

“Sure thing,” Greg said. “Here.” He fished a business card out of his wallet. “There’s my mobile number, call me when you’re free?”

“Alright,” Anthea said, taking his card. “Thank you.”

Greg’s mobile chirped. “That’ll be work. See you two later.”

“Bye, Greg,” Molly said, smiling.

“Goodbye, Greg,” Anthea said.

Halfway across town, Myrddin saw the conversation in his mind’s eye and could feel his irritation mounting but couldn’t explain it. _What do I care if one of Molly’s friends asks Anthea out? She’s obviously not interested in this Greg – she doesn’t give him that soft, soft smile she gives me, and she certainly doesn’t blush. I know she said she wanted us to get to know each other first, but it’s not like she fancies anyone else … right_? He held his breath as Anthea looked at the business card in her hand.

As soon as Greg was out of sight, Molly gently took the card from her, smiling a bit. “You don’t need to keep this if you don’t want to.”

“It was nice of him to ask me out, and to give me his card…”

“But you’re already interested in someone else?”

Anthea nodded and Myrddin could breathe again. He was jarred out of his vision by his father’s voice.

“And here I thought you were looking for your king.”

Myrddin looked down at the laptop Sherlock had given him. “Who says I wasn’t?”

Sherlock smirked. “The look on your face. It was the same look you have when you look at Anthea. I’m assuming you never thought of Arthur that way, so…”

Myrddin rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I was spying on Anthea, happy? I wanted to make sure she was alright. And Molly too, of course.”

“Of course,” Sherlock said, grinning. “What did you see?”

“Your mate Greg asking her out.”

“What did she tell him?”

“That she’s busy. But when Molly asked if she was interested in someone, she nodded.”

“Let’s just hope it’s you,” Sherlock said, smirking, “for all our sakes.”

Myrddin rolled his eyes again but couldn’t help grinning.

* * *

A few days later, Molly was just finishing a very long shift when her mobile chirped.

_6:03p Are you staying late? SH_

_6:05p I’ll be out in a minute. Long day. Molly_

_6:06p In that case, what do you say to dinner and a movie? SH_

_6:08p That sounds perfect, actually. I’m heading down now. Molly_

Sherlock approached the front doors just as Molly was walking out. It had never occurred to her to ask him to stop accompanying her to and from work after they had broken their contract. She beamed up at him as he leaned to kiss her softly.

“Hello, love,” he murmured. “Tell me about your day.”

“Hi, sexy,” she said, smiling tiredly. “It was all politics.”

He relieved her of her bag and she took his offered arm. They started walking to the tube station. “How so?”

“Oh, the staff meeting this morning devolved into everyone complaining about the budget and accusing the other departments of taking all the money. Then there was mandatory anti-harassment training. Let’s not forget the endless office gossip in the breakroom.” She rolled her eyes. “I was happy to get back to the morgue.”

Sherlock chuckled. “You know, if you ever want to retire early, we can certainly afford it.”

“Mmm, don’t tempt me. But seriously, I love my job. The dead are fine, it’s the living that drive me insane.” She smiled as Sherlock kissed the top of her head. “What movie are we seeing?”

“That actor you like with the silly name, his latest is still playing.”

“Perfect,” Molly said, grinning. “And where are we going for dinner after?”

“What are you in the mood for?” Sherlock asked.

“Romance.”

“Italian it is.”

* * *

“Myrddin?” Anthea walked around the flat as she called out the wizard’s name, Devil following her.

She found him in the guestroom, asleep on the left side of the bed and clutching the pillow from the right side, the one she favored, to his chest. She smiled to herself as she sat on the bed and watched him for a moment. Devil jumped onto the bed then settled on Myrddin’s jean-clad thigh. Anthea chuckled and reached out to stroke the kitten’s fur. Devil started to purr.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Myrddin murmured sleepily as he looked up at her. “I was just resting my eyes.”

Anthea smiled at him indulgently. “And I suppose snoring is part of resting your eyes?”

He chuckled. “Okay, fine, you caught me. I’ve been trying to rebuild my magic stamina and it’s exhausting.”

“But it is working?”

“Yeah, slowly.” Myrddin glanced at the pillow he was still clutching then set it aside, his cheeks slightly pink. He sat up carefully, mindful of the pointy kitten on his leg. Myrddin reached out to stroke the kitten’s ear and Devil’s purr grew louder. “Cute little guy.”

Anthea nodded. “He’s a dear. Sherlock texted me, they’re going on a date. He said there’s plenty of food here or we can go out too.” She smiled a bit. “As long as we don’t go to Angelo’s or the cinema they’re going to.”

Myrddin chuckled. “Let’s just stay here. I can get take-away.”

“Can it be Chinese?” she asked. “Molly and I had Chinese for lunch when she took me shopping Sunday, it’s very tasty.”

“Chinese it is. What do you like?”

“Sweet-and-sour pork. Oh, and those fried crab things.”

“Crab Rangoon?” Myrddin guessed, smiling.

“Yes, that.”

“I want to try those too.” He picked up Devil and passed him to Anthea then got up and stretched.

She smiled a bit as she set the kitten on the floor and stood up. “I wasn’t expecting to find you taking a nap in here.”

He chuckled. “I would’ve taken a nap in the sitting room but you were reading.” He grinned. “And since I never get any rest around you…”

Anthea blushed as she laughed softly. “You can’t blame me for that, I don’t do anything to you.”

“You don’t have to – even just sitting there reading, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He grinned at her deepening blush then pulled his black leather jacket on over his grey t-shirt and softly kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Be careful,” she said.

Myrddin winked at her then left the room. Anthea looked down at Devil, who looked back up at her.

“I think maybe I’m falling for him. Is it possible to have feelings for someone after only knowing them for four days, Devil?”

“Mrrr…” Devil replied.

Anthea chuckled as she picked him up. “I’ll take that as a ‘maybe.’”

* * *

After the movie, Sherlock and Molly took a cab to Angelo’s. Seated at their favorite table, Sherlock waited until they had ordered before pulling a black velvet ring box out of his pocket.

Molly’s eyes lit up. “You found a ring!”

Sherlock chuckled. “It’s a testament to how long I was looking that you’re just excited that I settled on one without even looking at it. Myrddin suggested a custom-made ring. Thankfully, I found a jeweler who could make just what I wanted quickly. Close your eyes.”

Molly closed her eyes, smiling. Sherlock removed the ring from the box then gently took her left hand and slid the ring onto her third finger. It fit perfectly.

“Open your eyes, love.”

She opened them and looked down at the ring, her eyes widening. “Oh, Sherlock…” she whispered.

It was a bezel-set rose-cut diamond with tiny diamonds on each side in the shape of angel wings, all set in black-tinted gold.

Sherlock held his breath. _Please like it… Please like it…_

Molly looked up at him, amazed. “I love it!” He barely had enough time to let out the breath he held before she leaned across the table and kissed him deeply.

_Thank God!_ Sherlock thought as he kissed her back.

* * *

They sat across from each other at the peninsula as they ate. Anthea struggled with the chopsticks then smiled at him gratefully when he gave her a fork.

“It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me to let a lady starve,” he said, grinning.

“You’re a gentleman?” Anthea asked playfully. “And here I thought you were a rogue.”

Myrddin chuckled as he ate his Mongolian beef. “I’ll admit that I haven’t exactly been on my best behavior around you. God knows my father has told me to behave.” He looked up at her. “But you don’t mind … right?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be here,” she said, smiling gently.

“What, in London?” he joked. “In my father and Molly’s flat?”

“Alone with you.”

He grinned at her then went back to eating, sneaking glances at her as he pretended to focus on his food. Anthea just laughed.

* * *

Molly kept gazing at her ring with an awestruck expression on her face. Sherlock chuckled, amusement taking over now that his worries had fled.

“Your food’s getting cold,” he reminded her gently for the third time since their orders had arrived.

“Oh! Sorry…” Molly said, blushing. She took a few bites of her fettuccine alfredo then went back to gazing at her ring.

Sherlock shook his head, laughing. “And I was worried you wouldn’t like it.”

She looked up at him. “I love it. It’s suits us perfectly.”

He nodded. “Black wings reminiscent of my own. A low profile so you can wear it under your gloves.”

“Oh, I didn’t even think about wearing it under my gloves.” She smiled at him. “You’re so thoughtful, Sherlock.”

He smiled softly. “Thank you, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly's ring is based on Jessica McCormack's Wings of Desire ring. I did a Google image search and found a gorgeous black one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost everyone is surprised, but none more than Sherlock and Molly when certain secrets come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, things get a little kinky at the end.

Sherlock woke Saturday morning to a warm, furry, and purring weight on his chest. He opened his eyes and found himself nose-to-nose with Devil. “Not the face I want to see first thing in the morning,” he muttered, but obediently rubbed the kitten’s ears. Devil’s purr grew louder.

“Better than an alarm clock,” Molly murmured beside him, amused. She reached out to stroke the kitten’s back.

“I have something you can pet,” Sherlock murmured in her ear. “And I’ll be sure to purr.”

Molly giggled. “Is that so?” she asked, grinning. “Well-” A loud crash from the kitchen startled both of them. Molly looked towards the slightly ajar bedroom door. “What was that?!”

“I doubt we really want to know the answer,” Sherlock muttered, “but we probably need to find out.” He dislodged the protesting kitten as they both got up. Sherlock snapped his fingers and they were in their pajamas and dressing gowns.

He led the way to the kitchen and stopped short at the doorway, Molly nearly running into him. Their normally-pristine kitchen was an utter disaster – every pot and pan Sherlock and Molly owned had been used and most of them had burnt-on food covering them. On the floor were shards of glass and what looked like a raw breakfast casserole – a large glob of pieces of sausage and bacon, raw eggs, cheese, and flour gravy. Myrddin and Anthea stood in the middle of the disaster zone, arguing.

“You can’t double the temperature, Anthea,” Myrddin was saying. He wore his pajama bottoms, a white t-shirt, and Sherlock’s apron. “Even if you cut the cooking time in half, you still end up with burnt food!”

“What do you know about cooking?” Anthea asked. “The last time you cooked was the Dark Ages!” She was wearing jeans, a pale blue top, and Molly’s cherry-print apron, her hair hanging loose and still slightly damp from her shower. She sighed heavily. “Can’t you use your magic to clean this up before Molly and Sherlock wake up?”

“Too late,” Sherlock and Molly said in unison.

Myrddin and Anthea visibly winced at the sound of their voices and turned to them with equally guilty looks on their faces.

“Father, Molly, I can explain,” Myrddin said quickly. “Anthea and I thought it would be nice if we made breakfast for you-”

“Except that I have never cooked before,” Anthea interjected.

“And I spent fourteen centuries watching other people cook,” Myrddin said, “but that’s definitely not the same as doing it myself.”

Sherlock sighed painfully. “Clean this up, I’m taking Molly out for breakfast.”

“Yes, Father,” Myrddin said.

“Yes, sir,” Anthea said.

Sherlock and Molly walked back to their bedroom. Molly waited until the door was shut then she started giggling.

“Oh God, the looks on their faces!” she said, grinning. “You’d think we caught them making out.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “That certainly would have been cleaner. I’m going to take a shower.” He grinned at her. “Care to join me?”

Molly grinned back. “If I did that, we’d have to make our breakfast date a lunch date instead.”

“I’m game if you are.”

She lightly smacked his shoulder. “Later, sexy.”

* * *

Myrddin looked around at the huge mess they’d made and sighed quietly. “Unless we want to be at this all day, there’s only one way to fix this.” He waved his hand and the kitchen was suddenly spotless. Myrddin winced from the momentary strain. _I’m getting stronger – a week ago, I would’ve been ready to pass out._

“Are you alright?” Anthea asked, concerned.

He nodded. “Just like straining a muscle a bit. I just need food and I’ll be fine,” he said, smiling slightly. “So … since they’re going out, why don’t we go out too?” His smile softened. “There’s a big weeping willow in the park. We could have a little picnic underneath it and watch the world go by.”

“I’d like that,” Anthea said, matching his smile with one of her own.

“I just need a shower.” Myrddin grinned. “I’d ask you to join me but you’ve already had one.”

Anthea rolled her eyes, smiling. “Go.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He gave her a mock salute then kissed her cheek on his way out of the kitchen.

After buying coffee and breakfast sandwiches with money Sherlock had given them, the two of them were sitting on one of Molly’s old blankets under a weeping willow by a pond in the park. Myrddin found himself focused more on Anthea than his breakfast. She looked up at the canopy of branches over them and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her neck. She tore a piece off her sandwich and he wanted those elegant hands touching him anywhere, everywhere.

His sandwich went quickly so he started filching little pieces off hers. The second time he did it, she lightly slapped his hand away.

“Behave,” she chided softly, struggling to hold back a grin.

“I can’t help it,” he said, not bothering to hold back his. “I’m still hungry.” He leaned over to nibble on her earlobe.

“Myrddin…” she gasped softly then looked around quickly.

“Mmm, you taste delicious, baby,” he murmured as he started to kiss her neck. “Relax, Anthea – no one’s watching us.”

She shivered. “Are you always like this after using magic?”

He chuckled against her collarbone then slowly licked the hollow of her throat. “Starving? Yes.”

Her breath caught then she ran a hand through his hair. “Amorous.”

He lifted his head to gaze at her. “Only with you.” He grinned at her blush. “But I think I’d better stop before things get out of hand.”

Her blush deepened and she nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“I don’t want to stop touching you, though.” He moved to sit with his back against the trunk and his legs spread just enough, smiling a bit. “Care to join me, Anthea?”

She sat between his legs, her back to him and her legs stretched out in front of her. Myrddin wrapped his arms around her waist and she leaned against him, her hands over his, and sighed softly. They sat like that for several minutes, each lost in thought. Finally, Myrddin broke the silence.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured.

“Lots of things,” she murmured. “How beautiful your eyes are, how your voice makes me blush, how much I want to feel your lips on mine.”

He smiled a bit. “I haven’t given you a proper kiss yet? I’d better remedy that.”

“Not yet.” She gently rubbed his arm though the sleeve of his pale gray hoodie. “We have time.”

“Tell that to my libido,” he muttered. “Every time I see you, I want to carry you to that ridiculously small bed in the guestroom and show you how much I want you.”

She turned to look at him. “Is that what you were thinking about just now?”

Myrddin chuckled. “Actually, I was wondering if it would be possible to stop time so we could be in this moment forever.”

Anthea blinked in surprise then smiled at him softly. “This moment is beautiful, almost perfect, but I wouldn’t want to be in it forever – we’d miss out on all the things we could be doing after.”

“Such as?” he asked, grinning.

She thought for a moment. “We could talk about our pasts.”

His grin faded. “I’d rather talk about literally anything else.”

“Why?” she asked gently.

“Bringing up old pain is the last thing I want to do on a day like this,” he said quietly.

She brought a hand up to his cheek, her eyes full of tenderness. “If you don’t want to talk about yours, we can talk about mine.”

Myrddin looked at her for a moment then nodded, smiling slightly. “Anthea, if you say your past was heavenly, so help me…”

She laughed softly. “No puns, I promise.” She fiddled with the zipper pull on his hoodie. “I was created to serve in Heaven’s army.”

“You didn’t have a choice?” he asked, surprised. “I thought angels were supposed to have free will.”

“I could have declined if I wanted to, but being created to be a soldier meant that I would feel the most at home in the army.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a choice, then.”

“It’s not,” she agreed. “I was happy for a while. I eventually rose to the rank of major.”

“You must be really good at soldiering.” Myrddin smiled a bit. “I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me to ask this sooner, but how old are you?”

Anthea smiled back. “How old do you think I am?”

He chuckled. “There’s a loaded question. You’re not as old as my father, I can tell that much – angels who saw the Fall have a certain look in their eyes. Beyond that, I have no idea.”

“I’m 360 years old.”

“Just a baby, then,” he said, grinning. “What made you leave the army and work for my uncle?” His eyes widened slightly. “Please tell me you didn’t fall for him.”

She laughed softly. “Nothing like that.” When he relaxed, she continued. “Mycroft once saw me reorganizing troops in the midst of battle. He decided that someone who could create order out of the chaos of war could easily organize his workload. He offered me a chance to leave the army and I took it. I was ready for a change – I’d decided that endlessly fighting the forces of evil wasn’t what I truly wanted to do.”

“And do you like working for Mycroft?”

“It’s always challenging. To be honest, I thought he wouldn’t be able to get along without me, but I’ve been on Earth for a week and I haven’t heard anything from him.” She sighed quietly. “I suppose I’m not as indispensable as I thought.”

“Maybe not to Mycroft,” Myrddin said gently, “but I think you’re pretty necessary.” At her stare, he smiled a bit. “Without you, I’d still be bickering with my father and Molly, not to mention still really bitter about what Nimue did to me.”

“Myrddin, I … I don’t know what to say.”

“Just … promise me you’ll think about asking to stay after my father’s free from Hell.” He smirked. “You can ask for an Earth-side transfer or something.”

Anthea chuckled softly. “I promise. Will you promise me something in return, Myrddin?”

“Yes, anything,” he blurted. His eyes widened and he chuckled a bit. “Um, sorry. What do you want me to do?”

She smiled gently. “That you’ll tell me about your past, when you’re ready.”

He smiled. “I promise.”

* * *

Sherlock looked around the restaurant with a critical eye. When he’d asked Molly where she wanted to have breakfast, she had suggested a new restaurant, Le Petit Diable. _The Little Devil,_ Sherlock thought now. _Molly’s loving this._ They were seated at what the hostess had said was the best table and Sherlock was trying hard not to laugh. The dining room was decorated in black, white, and large splashes of red, the menu was dominated by red, deviled, spicy, and flambé foods, and the waitstaff was dressed in head-to-toe red.

_Too over-the-top for me,_ he thought. Sherlock ordered red velvet pancakes and Molly ordered strawberry and banana crepes. They were almost done with their meal and were talking about the more mundane things they had to do before the wedding when Sherlock heard a very familiar voice.

“I was wondering if I’d see you here.”

Both of them stared at the smirking man who had just approached their table. He wore a black suit, a white dress shirt, a red tie, and a matching pocket square.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” the man asked, looking at both of them expectantly.

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but Molly beat him to it.

“Sherlock, um, this is Jim Moriarty, my ex-boyfriend. Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes, my fiancé.”

Sherlock turned his stare on Molly. _That’s not possible…_ He lowered his voice, mindful of the other patrons within earshot. “Molly … this is James, the Prince of Pandemonium. My superior.” He turned back to the demon prince. “James, I’d introduce you but I see you already know each other.”

“Biblically,” James said, smirking.

Molly stared at both of them, her face paling. “Oh God…”

“Yes, I do seem to recall you saying that quite a few times when we were together.” He put his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, grinning. “How do you two like my place? I’ve heard owning a restaurant is ‘hell on Earth,’ so I thought I’d give it a try.”

“It’s very … nice?” Molly offered weakly.

“Good! I hope you’ll both be back soon.” He turned to Sherlock. “Actually, I’m hoping you’ll be back tonight, Sherlock.” He lowered his voice. “We close at ten, I expect you here at 10:05 on the dot, alone.”

_This is it,_ Sherlock thought. “I’ll be here,” he said quietly. “Alone.”

Molly said quietly, “Sherlock, I think we should leave…”

Sherlock nodded and absently reached for his wallet.

“Please, it’s on the house,” James said, smirking. “Just be sure to tell all your friends about Le Petit Diable.”

Molly stood up shakily. Sherlock got up and steadied her then offered her his arm. She took it and they walked out of the restaurant. He glanced around them then took her into the alley.

“Shortcut, love,” he murmured.

She nodded and obediently closed her eyes. He took them through Hell then they appeared in their bedroom. Molly glared at the bed then turned on her heel and practically ran from the room. Sherlock caught up to her in the hallway, gently grabbing her elbow and turning her to face him.

“Talk to me, Molly,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. She laid her head on his chest, her arms going around his waist.

“For James? Molly, you were with him long before you met me. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“He never told me what he was. We were together for just three months, then I realized that he was only interested in sex. He mentioned his friends a few times but I never met them. We’d go out to dinner and a movie, but then it was always back to my place. I thought it was odd that I never saw his flat, but I just assumed he thought mine was nicer.” There was a small “meow” as Devil started rubbing against Molly’s ankle. Molly smiled down at him weakly but it quickly faded as she looked back up at Sherlock. “I thought I could handle seeing him again but then we get back and I see the bed … and all this anger hits me. I remodeled my whole flat just before I met Jim … James, he was the first man to see my redone bedroom.”

“What happened with James, Tom, or anyone else is in the past,” Sherlock said softly. “It’s our bedroom now.”

Molly nodded. “What bothers me more is that my ex-boyfriend is the one keeping you bound to Hell. It was bad enough when your superior was someone I didn’t know, but now…” She trailed off, swallowing hard.

“It’s alright, Molly.” He gently stroked her hair. “I’ll break his hold over me, I swear. And as soon as I do, we are getting married. I’m through with waiting.”

Molly lifted her head to gaze up at him, murmuring, “Alright, Sherlock.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “What do we do now?”

“ **We** do nothing, **I’m** going to prepare for tonight.” He kissed her softly then let go of her and walked down the hallway.

He heard her follow him. “You’re not serious about going alone…”

“I told him I would,” Sherlock said. He pulled his mobile from his pocket and was about to text Myrddin when the man himself and Anthea walked through the front door. “The game is on,” he told them. “James has summoned me to his presence tonight.”

“It’s a trap,” Molly said firmly. “It has to be.”

“Wait, back up,” Myrddin said, holding up his hands. “You tried for over a month to get your boss to listen to you, what changed?”

“I went to him,” Sherlock said, “albeit unintentionally. It turns out James owns Le Petit Diable, the new restaurant in town. Molly thought it would be fun to have breakfast there.”

“I just thought Sherlock would like the theme,” Molly said quietly. “We had no way of knowing who owns it.”

“There’s something else,” Anthea said. “Something you’re not telling us.”

“James is my ex-boyfriend,” Molly said.

“Not that it matters now,” Sherlock added.

“On the contrary, it complicates things,” Anthea said. At Molly’s inquisitive look, she went on. “He knows you, he knows where to find you, and now he knows how much you mean to Sherlock. James could use all of that against him.”

Molly’s face paled. “Oh God, you’re right…”

Sherlock gently took her hands. “He won’t get anywhere near you, love. Anthea and Myrddin will be here to protect you.”

“No, we’re going with you, Father,” Myrddin insisted. “You know James won’t be alone.”

“You’ll be walking into an ambush,” Anthea said.

“Someone needs to stay here to protect Molly,” Sherlock said firmly.

“Your friends,” Myrddin suggested.

“You really think three humans are enough to protect her?”

“Those three particular humans? Yes.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Do you know something I don’t?”

Myrddin just smirked.

“They’re right, Sherlock,” Molly said. “You can’t face James alone. Take them, our friends can protect me.”

He sighed heavily. “Alright. We need to decide what we’re going to tell our friends.”

Molly didn’t say anything for a moment. “Why don’t we just tell them the truth about everything? We’ve talked about this, Sherlock.”

Sherlock nodded. “We have, but I thought we decided they wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“I think they’re stronger than we gave them credit for.” She smiled a bit. “And it would definitely be easier than lying to them for the rest of our lives.”

“That’s true. Alright, love.” He smiled back. “Just remember, if this blows up in our faces, it was your idea.”

Molly laughed. “Noted.”

Sherlock picked up his mobile and sent a mass text to all three of them.

_11:09a Molly and I need you to come to our flat, if convenient. If inconvenient, come anyway. SH_

_11:13a Sorry, can’t, on a case. Call you when I’m done. GL_

_11:16a We’ll be there as soon as we drop Rosie off at the sitter’s. JW_

_11:17a What’s this about, Sherlock? MW_

_11:18a I’ll tell you when you get here. SH_

“Greg’s working,” Sherlock said. “John and Mary are on their way.” He looked at Myrddin. “Do you think just the two of them can protect Molly?”

Myrddin nodded. “She’ll be in the best of hands.”

When the Watsons arrived, Sherlock ushered everyone into the sitting room. He asked them to sit down but none of them took him up on it.

“Tell us what’s going on, Sherlock,” Mary said. She looked over at Myrddin and Anthea. “Hello, Merlin. Who’s this?”

“John, Mary, this is my girlfriend, Anthea. Anthea, this is John and Mary Watson,” he said.

Everyone stared at him but Anthea’s expression the most surprised.

Mary recovered first. “That was fast – you were single last weekend,” she said, smiling.

“Well, when you see something you want, you go for it,” Myrddin said, grinning.

“I’m your girlfriend?” Anthea asked him softly.

John chuckled. “You’re supposed to let the girl know she’s your girlfriend first, mate.”

Myrddin smiled at her. “Any objections?”

“None,” Anthea said, smiling back.

Sherlock cleared his throat. “If I may, there’s a reason why I called you here, and it’s not his love life.”

“What is it, then?” Mary asked.

“Molly and I went out for breakfast earlier. We ran into Molly’s ex-boyfriend at the restaurant,” Sherlock said. “Neither of us realized before today that he is also my superior.”

“I thought you were self-employed,” John said, confused.

“Not … exactly,” he said. Sherlock looked to Molly, who smiled at him encouragingly. He turned back to the Watsons. “I’m not what you think I am.”

Mary smirked. “You mean to tell us you’re not a posh boy slumming as a butler?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. _That’s what you think I am?_ “No – human.”

“Uh huh,” John said. “Sure you’re not.”

Mary raised an eyebrow. “If you’re not human, what are you?”

“An incubus.”

Mary muttered, “Yeah, right.” At the same time, John asked, “A what?”

“He’s a sex demon, John,” Molly said patiently.

“Supposedly, their role was to seduce innocent women,” Mary explained. “But those were just medieval legends.” She looked at Sherlock, assessing him. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, some of which I can’t explain, but a sex demon? And in the Twenty-first Century? That’s really hard to believe.”

Sherlock sighed heavily. _I was hoping to avoid this._ He changed into his demonic form in the blink of an eye.

John jumped back, staring at him. Mary held her ground, eyes narrowed.

Sherlock noticed that his fiancée’s eyes darkened as she gazed at him. _We have to talk about that later._ In another blink, he was back to his human form. “Is that enough or do you need more?”

John looked unsteady on his feet and Mary insisted that he sit down. He sat on the sofa and looked at Molly. “How … how long have you known?”

“I knew he was a demon when I summoned him,” Molly said. At John and Mary’s stares, she went on. “Danny Forsythe had to pay for killing Tom. When the legal system failed me, I sold my soul to Sherlock in exchange for him killing Danny.”

“You hired an incubus as a hitman?” Mary asked, incredulous.

“I didn’t know he was an incubus until after we made the deal, but yes.” She held out a hand to Sherlock, who moved closer and took it.

“So now you’re bound to this guy?” John asked angrily. “Him being your butler was a ruse, obviously. Is your engagement?”

“The engagement is real,” Sherlock said firmly. “We fell in love and we are getting married. We ended the contract between us after I proposed. I’m the same man you’ve known since we met, John.” He smiled a bit. “I simply have a different backstory.”

“Anyway, the problem now is that Sherlock is still bound to Hell,” Molly said. “We just found out that Sherlock’s superior, the man keeping him bound, is the man John and I know as Jim Moriarty.”

“That jerk you dated before Tom?” John asked.

Molly nodded. “I had no idea that he was a demon.”

“Wait, you dated one demon and now you’re engaged to another, seriously?” Mary asked, unable to help a smile.

“Yes,” Molly said.

“There’s more but those are the basics,” Sherlock said.

John turned to Myrddin. “I suppose you’re an incubus too?”

Myrddin grinned. “Nope, I’m a campion.”

“A what?” John and Mary asked in unison.

“Half human, half demon.”

“So, you and Sherlock are half-brothers?” John guessed.

“Actually, he’s my father,” Myrddin said, unable to hold back a smirk at John and Mary’s confusion.

“How is that possible?” John asked. “You’re only a couple of years apart.”

Sherlock laughed. “I’m four thousand years old, John. He’s sixteen hundred years old.”

Myrddin glanced at Sherlock, who nodded. He turned back to John and Mary. “There’s no other way to say this – I’m the wizard Merlin, though I prefer the Welsh version of my name – Myrddin.”

“This is unbelievable,” John said, exasperated. “Sherlock’s a demon, Merlin, sorry Myrddin, is a wizard.” He looked at Anthea. “What are you, a banshee?”

Anthea smiled a bit. “I’m an angel. I was sent to help Sherlock break his connection to Hell.”

“Oh, of course, it all makes perfect sense now,” John muttered.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Anthea, Myrddin, and I are going to face my superior and force him to release me. I need the two of you to protect Molly while we’re gone.”

“We should go with you,” John insisted as he stood up.

“That’s quite a turnaround, John,” Sherlock said, raising an eyebrow. “You were ready to faint a moment ago.”

“You’re talking about a battle, at least that’s familiar territory,” John said. “I was a soldier, after all.”

“And I was an assassin,” Mary said. Everyone except John and Myrddin stared at her. She grinned. “You lot aren’t the only ones with secrets.”

“Even an assassin and a soldier are no match against multiple demons,” Sherlock said firmly. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come with us.”

“You’re being ridiculous, Sherlock,” John said. “Just the three of you against who knows how many demons?”

“Two more won’t make a difference.”

“It’s suicide!”

“It’s my only chance.” He glanced at the clock. “We have less than ten hours left. Myrddin, Anthea, I suggest you prepare. If all of you will excuse us, I’d like to speak to my fiancée in private.”

They walked back to their bedroom. Molly sat down on the bed and looked up at him worriedly.

“Do you really think you can beat him?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted as he sat down next to her, “but I have to try.” He raised a hand to stroke her cheek. “If I don’t come back-”

“Don’t talk like that,” she said firmly.

“If I don’t come back, I need you to live, Molly. Do whatever you must to stay alive.”

“Do you really think Jim … James would come after me if you die?”

He nodded. “I’ll ask Mycroft to hide you from him. I can’t leave here without knowing you’ll be safe.”

She hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. He held her close, softly stroking her hair.

“I’ll stay alive,” Molly said. “You have to promise me you’ll do the same.”

“I will stay alive,” Sherlock vowed. “I will come back to you.”

Molly nodded then softly kissed his neck. Sherlock shivered.

“Molly … there’s something I need to ask you. Two things actually.”

“Yes?” she murmured against his skin.

He softly stroked her hair. “When I showed my demonic form to our friends, you looked interested. Very interested.”

Molly chuckled then lifted her head to grin at him. “Was I that obvious?”

Sherlock gazed at her, infinitely curious. “Why does that form arouse you? I’m inhuman, making you see that should be a turn-off at the very least.”

“Sherlock, I’d want you no matter what form you took,” she said softly. “It’s your mind and your heart I’m attracted to more than any of your physical traits.” She smiled a bit as she took his hands. “The idea of making love with you when you have wings, fangs, horns, and a tail, well, it’s dangerous and forbidden and it’s something I really want to try, just once. We might never get another chance.”

He nodded. “If you’re sure this is what you want…”

“I’m positive,” Molly said. “What was the other thing you needed to ask me?”

“Since there is a chance I won’t make it, I want to leave something behind. Molly…” He took a deep breath. “There’s no easy way to ask this…”

“You want to know if I want us to make a baby.”

He blinked in surprise. “Yes. We talked about waiting until after our first anniversary…”

“But that might not come.” She looked down at their joined hands.

“I know it’s a lot to consider. If I don’t make it, you would be a single mother to a campion. They’re not exactly easy to raise, but Myrddin would help you. The others would too. You wouldn’t be alone, Molly.”

She nodded then looked up at him. “Would the baby look like you?”

He smiled a bit. “Babies aren’t devastatingly handsome.”

She lightly smacked his arm. “Sherlock…”

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, love. Campions look the same as full-blooded humans. The difference is what they can do, not how they look. Myrddin is the most powerful campion to have ever lived, and the oldest. The ones who work for Hell tend to live short, violent lives. You must promise me you’ll have our son, almost all campions are boys, baptized right after birth. That’s the only way to ensure Hell can’t claim him.”

Molly nodded. “I’ll name him Sherlock.”

He gazed at her. “Molly … are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes. If I lose you, I’ll still have our son. And if you come back to me,” she smiled a bit, “we’ll have a shotgun wedding.”

Sherlock chuckled. “Alright, love.”

He stood and in the blink of an eye, their clothes had vanished and he was in his demonic form again. He looked at her uncertainly. Molly got up and looked him over. Despite the warmth of the room and the warmth of his fiancée’s gaze, Sherlock still shivered. He looked down at his hands and retracted his claws then looked back up at her.

Molly smiled a bit. “I already knew you were like a cat.” He chuckled softly and she took his hands in hers. “You’re not comfortable like this, are you?” she asked gently.

“No,” he admitted. “Even after all this time, this doesn’t feel like the real me.”

“Then, you’ve never been with anyone like this?”

“You’re the only person who has ever wanted to.”

She let go of his hands then walked over to her vanity and pulled out the small padded bench. “Sit down, sexy,” she murmured. “I want to get a better look at you.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow but obediently sat down on the bench, his hands resting on his knees.

Molly stood between his spread legs then reached up to slowly run her hands over his dark grey horns from where they started just above his forehead to where they curled near his ears. “Can you feel that?” she asked softly.

“No, love,” he murmured. “They’re made of bone and keratin, no nerve endings.” He smiled weakly. “They’re one of the reasons why I try never to sleep in this form if I can help it – I wouldn’t be able to turn my head.”

Molly giggled softly. “Yes, I can see where that would be a problem.” She lightly rubbed his shoulders as she looked down at his body. “The rest of you doesn’t change, you just have a few additions.”

“It’s really only my teeth that change,” he said. Sherlock hesitated a moment then he reached up to take her hand and brought it to his mouth. He softly kissed her fingers then he lightly, very lightly, nibbled on the tip of her index finger with his fangs.

Molly raised an eyebrow, smiling a bit. “You could do some damage with those.”

He nodded. “I won’t hurt you, my darling,” he vowed solemnly. “I’d die first.”

“Sherlock, it’s alright,” she said gently. “I trust you.” She lowered her head to softly kiss his lips.

He kissed her back, his hands moving to her hips. Molly pulled back enough to smile at him lovingly.

“I’m not done, sexy,” she murmured.

She kissed his forehead, just below his horns, then moved behind him, giving his folded wings a wide berth. Sherlock held his breath as he waited for her to touch him again. He released it quickly when he felt her slowly run a hand from the middle of his back down to the base of his tail, just above his arse.

Sherlock shivered as goosebumps appeared on his skin. “My tail, on the other hand, is very sensitive,” he murmured. He knew what she was seeing – a long, thin tail the same color as the rest of his skin. He felt her lightly trail her fingers down the length of it to the long triangular point on the end, sending pleasure up his spine. Sherlock sucked in a breath. _God, it’s almost as if she has her hand on my-_ His thoughts came to a sudden halt as she rubbed the tip of his tail with her thumb. “Molly…” he gasped. “If you keep this up, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” she murmured in his ear.

“I … I won’t let you do any more exploring,” he said weakly.

He heard her chuckle softly. “The last thing I want to do is overexcite you,” she murmured. She lightly touched the feathers of his left wing. “Can you fly with these?” she asked softly, awed.

“Yes, love,” he murmured. “I haven’t flown in a long time, centuries really, but when all of this is over, I will take you.”

She ran a hand over the top of his right wing, from where it began to as far as her arm could reach. He shivered and both wings trembled.

She walked around his wing to face him, saying softly, “Stand up, love.”

He stood, taking her hands in his, and prayed he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. “Do you still want to do this?”

“More than ever,” Molly said, “but I want to do one thing first.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I want to see your wings completely unfurled.” She smiled a bit. “Show me your wingspan, Sherlock.”

He chuckled softly, some of the nervousness leaving him, then watched Molly’s eyes light up as he unfolded his wings and spread them wide. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist then chuckled as Molly gasped when he wrapped his wings around them both.

“Like a big, feathery hug,” she said, grinning at him, and he chuckled. Her smile softened. “They were white originally?”

He nodded. “They turned black as I fell from Heaven.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “The Fall was a literal fall?” At his nod, she said, “I thought it was just a fall from grace.”

He smiled sadly. “It was both – when the rebel angels lost, we were driven to the edge of Heaven then forced over the edge. I fell from Heaven headfirst. It felt like an eternity. When I craned my neck upward, I could see the Earth rushing towards me. When I looked downward, I could see Heaven getting farther and farther away. And when I looked to either side, I could see my wings turn from white to black. Their wings, by the way, are how you can tell if someone is a fallen angel or a demon created after the Fall. If they have the wings of a bird, they’re a fallen angel. Demons created after the Fall have the wings of a bat.”

“What about the rest of the changes?” she asked gently.

“They were bestowed on me after I agreed to serve Hell as a demon,” he said quietly. “I didn’t feel anything when the color of my wings changed, but the other changes were agonizing. I didn’t stop screaming for days.”

She hugged him gently. “My poor love…”

He kissed her forehead, holding her close. “Thank you, Molly, but this was over three thousand years ago. I’m over it.” When she looked at him skeptically, he added, “For the most part.”

“Will your body change back after you break the contract?” she asked gently.

“No, I’ll still be a demon. I simply won’t be an evil demon.”

“I never saw you as evil, Sherlock.” Molly smiled a bit. “Maybe a bit devious. Definitely lustful. Certainly never evil.”

He chuckled. “Thank you, Molly.” He murmured in her ear, “Speaking of lustful…” He folded his wings against his back then held her flush against him, his cock pressing against her stomach.

“Mmm…” She smiled up at him playfully. “How do you want to do this? You on your back is obviously out.”

Sherlock laughed softly. “Yes, the wings and tail would make that uncomfortable. I can’t be on top – I weigh more like this and I don’t want to crush you. We can try some other positions on the bed next time.”

“Next time?” Molly echoed, grinning. “A minute ago, you were reluctant to do this at all. What changed your mind?”

“You,” he said softly, gazing at her. “Your acceptance of me.”

“I will always accept you, Sherlock, no matter what.” She kissed him softly then smiled a bit. “So, since the bed is out, what do you suggest?”

“Mmm, something we haven’t done yet,” he murmured then gently pressed her back against the nearest wall.

Molly gasped as her back touched the wall. Sherlock took the opportunity to kiss her deeply, one hand on her hip as the other moved between her legs.

“God… I can’t believe how wet you are, love,” he murmured as his fingers stroked her clit.

She groaned softly, her hands clinging to his shoulders. “I’ve wanted this … oh God … since the night you proposed…”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked softly.

“I could have, but would you have agreed before now?”

“Probably not,” he admitted, “but after this, if there’s something you want us to do, tell me.”

Molly nodded then pulled his head down for a kiss, moaning into his mouth as two of his fingers slid inside her. “I need you now, Sherlock,” she murmured. “I’m ready, I can’t wait any longer…”

He slowly pulled his fingers out then licked them clean, his eyes on hers. Molly shivered.

“You’re wicked and I love you,” she murmured.

Sherlock chuckled softly. “No matter what, your heart remains innocent, open, and kind. It’s what I love most about you, Molly.”

She blinked back sudden tears. “Oh, Sherlock…” A lone tear slipped down her cheek.

He gently wiped it away, murmuring, “No tears, love. Not now.”

She nodded then kissed the hollow of his throat. Sherlock slipped his hands under her bum and held her up high enough that her feet were off the floor. Molly wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles. She gasped as he slid into her, then giggled as the tip of his tail tickled the sole of her foot.

“Sherlock…”

He chuckled. “Would you believe my tail has a mind of its own?”

She laughed softly. “If that’s true, it’s just as devious as yours.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he murmured. He started to move inside her, both of them gasping at the pleasure of it.

Molly raised her head to suck on his full lower lip and after his stifled moan, she released it to place kisses along his jawline. He whispered her name, the speed and depth of his thrusts increasing, then he groaned in frustration.

“Close your eyes, love,” he murmured.

She raised her head to look at him curiously. “Why?”

He kept his eyes on the hollow of her throat and felt his cheeks reddening. “Because there’s something I want to do that I don’t want to you to see.”

Molly raised an eyebrow, smiling a bit. “Sherlock, whatever it is, just do it,” she murmured. “I won’t judge, I promise.”

He raised his eyes to hers and her smile softened. “We’re lovers, Sherlock. You already know what I don’t like. As long as it’s not that, I promise there’s nothing you can do that would disturb or disgust me.”

“Alright,” he whispered. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face as his tail moved up between their bodies and the tip rubbed her clit.

“Don’t be afraid,” Sherlock murmured, his cheeks burning red with shame, but even before he was finished speaking, he could feel and hear Molly was climaxing hard and loud.

His eyes shot open at the first sensation and he stared at her for half a heartbeat before his own climax overwhelmed him. He lowered his tail then pulled out of her, both of them breathing heavily. Her legs still wrapped around him, Sherlock changed back to his human form then carried her to the bed and gently laid her down.

As soon as he was lying beside her, Molly took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply. He kissed her back then pulled back to stare at her, confused. “Molly?”

“You silly, wonderful demon,” she murmured, smiling at him fondly. “You knew I wanted you. What on Earth made you think I wouldn’t like you touching me like that?”

“Accepting all of me is one thing, but being alright with my tail touching you so intimately? I thought that would be too much for you.”

“Oh, love…” she murmured, reaching up to play with his curls as she held his gaze. “No more shame, no more doubt, not in bed. You can touch any part of my body with any part of yours.” She smiled a bit. “Whichever body you’re using at the time.”

He chuckled. “We have a deal.” He kissed her softly then turned onto his back.

Molly curled against his side, her ear over his heart. “I love you,” she murmured. “I don’t think I can say it enough.”

“I can’t either,” Sherlock said. “I love you. I will always love you, no matter where I end up.” He took a deep breath. “Molly, after I’m gone, I want you to find someone else.” He smiled weakly. “Just make sure he isn’t a demon.”

“Maybe that’s just my type,” she murmured, lifting her head to grin at him.

Sherlock laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to blame that last scene on anything except for what really caused it -- my overactive imagination.
> 
> We're getting down to the wire soon. 1, maybe 2 more chapters to go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone prepares for battle.

As soon as Sherlock and Molly left the sitting room, John turned to Mary. “So,” he said, smiling a bit, “do I need to worry about losing you to an incubus?”

Mary laughed. “Oh, John,” she said fondly, “why would I need a sex demon when I already have a sex god?”

Myrddin snickered as John’s cheeks turned pink.

“How long have the two of you been married?” Anthea asked, smiling. _They’re perfect for each other,_ she thought.

“Almost two years,” Mary said happily.

John smirked. “Don’t tell my wife, but I’m taking her to Paris for our anniversary.”

Anthea raised an eyebrow. “Did Mary know that?”

Mary laughed softly. “It was my idea. We didn’t really have a honeymoon, both of us were too busy to get away for longer than a weekend in Dublin.”

Myrddin was silent for a moment then he smiled a bit. “Not true. The two of you were planning to go for a fortnight, but you found out on your wedding day that you were expecting and John decided to shorten the trip out of concern for your health.”

Both of the Watsons stared at him. “How can you possibly know that?” John asked, incredulous.

It was Myrddin’s turn to smirk. “I’m clairvoyant. I can see the present and the past with perfect clarity.”

“That would explain why you didn’t look surprised when I mentioned my former career,” Mary said. “What about the future?”

“It’s hazy,” Myrddin admitted. “I can see some things, not everything, and usually what I see are possibilities only.”

“Like what?” John asked, curious.

Myrddin smiled a bit. “That would be cheating.”

“So … you’re really Merlin?” John asked. “As in, **the** Merlin, Arthur’s wizard?”

“Wizard, counselor, and best friend,” Myrddin said, smiling proudly, but the smile quickly faded. “Hell, before that I helped his father put up some shelves, to use a modern term.” He looked uncomfortable.

“I don’t understand, why would a king need to put up shelves?” Anthea asked, confused.

“’Helped someone put up shelves’ is slang,” John explained. “It means Myrddin helped Arthur’s father Uther get laid. According to the stories Molly’s dad used to tell, Myrddin made Uther look and sound like the husband of Igraine, Arthur’s mother.”

_What?!_ Anthea turned to Myrddin, her eyes wide and hurt. “You … you helped a man deceive a woman into having sex with him?”

“It wasn’t my finest moment, but yes,” he said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

“How could you, Myrddin?” she asked quietly. “That … that is the worst thing you could have done…”

“I’m not proud of how I did it, but I’d had a vision that Uther and Igraine’s son would be England’s savior. I thought that justified deceiving Igraine.” Myrddin raised his eyes to hers and gently took her hands. “Look, if it helps, Igraine and Uther fell in love and married after her first husband, Gorlois, died in battle.”

“The ends do not justify the means,” Anthea said quietly. “You and Uther could have found another way.” She pulled her hands away. “You’re … you’re not the man I thought you were, Myrddin.” She could feel tears in her eyes and ran from the room, not wanting anyone to see.

Anthea was halfway down the hallway when she felt a hand grab her arm. Years of battle-honed reflexes had her turning and about to strike with her free hand when she saw Myrddin’s face. “Do not sneak up on a soldier, Myrddin!” she said angrily, yanking her arm away.

Myrddin glanced at Sherlock and Molly’s closed bedroom door. “Let’s take this somewhere more private.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She walked into the guestroom and tried to close the door in his face but he blocked it with his foot.

“Anthea, baby-”

“Do not call me that!” she shouted, furious. “I thought you were a good man! I thought you were honorable and respectable and … and…” She trailed off, her fury rushing out of her and leaving her bone-weary. She sat on the bed, her head in her hands. She stiffened but didn’t look up when she felt the bed shift as he sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Is it just that I helped Uther deceive Igraine that bothers you?” he asked gently. “Or are you worried I might do something similar to you?”

Anthea swallowed hard then raised her head to look at him. “Both. I thought I could trust you, just as I’m sure Igraine thought she could trust that the man in front of her actually was her husband.”

“You can trust me, Anthea,” he said firmly. “I’m not that man anymore. I was young and stupid when I worked for Uther, I’ve grown up a lot since then.” He sighed quietly. “I put Arthur’s conception above the respect that should have been shown to Igraine. It remains the worst thing I have ever done. After Igraine married Uther, she made me swear that I would never use glamour that way again. I’ve kept that vow all these years.” He moved to take both of her hands in his. “I will never hurt you, Anthea. I’ll never lie to you. Please, tell me you believe me.”

Anthea swallowed hard. “What I believe doesn’t matter.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked warily.

“As soon as Sherlock is free, I am going home.”

“Home… You mean back to Heaven?” At her nod, he went on. “You told me you’d think about asking to stay.”

“I did think about it,” she said quietly. “I’m not made to handle a life on Earth. Desires, feelings … they’re too much for me.”

“Anthea … if this is about trusting me-”

“It’s about trusting myself. When I’m around you, I don’t trust myself to remember that I have a duty to perform. Myrddin, I’m sorry, but I can’t be in a relationship with you and serve Heaven at the same time.”

“So, that’s it?” he asked quietly. “You’re going to pick Heaven over me, no questions asked?”

She looked down at their hands. “It’s better that we end this now before we become … involved.”

“Before we become lovers, you mean, because if you think we’re not already emotionally involved…” He paused. “Or maybe that’s it – you don’t have feelings for me.”

Her head jerked up and she stared at him. “I do, you know I do, that’s why this is so hard.”

“You keep saying you’re a soldier, yet you’re not willing to fight for this, for us? C’mon, Anthea, do what your heart is telling you.”

Anthea looked deep into his eyes and prayed that the feelings she saw in them were genuine. She took a deep breath. “I will talk to Mycroft.”

“And say …?”

“And say I want to remain on Earth.”

“With me?” he asked hopefully, giving her a boyish grin.

She smiled a bit. “With Sherlock and Molly. You don’t have a place of your own yet.”

His grin widened. “Well, I know what I’m getting as soon as my father’s free.”

Anthea laughed softly.

* * *

Molly lay on her back and gazed up at her fiancé, who was laying on his side, facing her. She yawned softly then murmured, “You know, I won’t get pregnant from this – today’s not one of my fertile days.”

Sherlock had his head propped in one hand and was slowly tracing designs over her lower abdomen with the other. He chuckled softly. “An incubus doesn’t have to wait until a woman’s fertile time, love. I can manipulate your cycle – you’ve been fertile since the moment you agreed to have a baby with me.”

She raised an eyebrow, smiling a bit. “I see. And what are you up to now?”

He smiled back. “What makes you think I’m up to something?”

Molly grinned. “You’re awake.”

Sherlock chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m ensuring that you conceive.” He looked up at her. “I love you, Molly.”

“I love you, Sherlock.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. “I know I’ll love our son just as much.”

He lowered his head to kiss her softly. She kissed him back then broke the kiss to yawn widely.

“Mmm, sorry, sexy,” she murmured.

Sherlock chuckled. “Don’t apologize, love.”

“I always fall asleep right after we make love. You just wear me out.” She looked at him suspiciously. “Sherlock?”

“It’s not that.” He smiled a bit. “At least, it’s not just that.”

She blinked in surprise. “You’re saying I always fall asleep after we make love because you’re an incubus?”

“Basically. It’s for the demon’s protection. With the human asleep, it’s easier for the demon to ensure conception then escape.”

“Oh.” She yawned softly then murmured, “Don’t leave this time. Stay with me.”

“I have to speak to Mycroft.”

“That can wait. Please, Sherlock?”

He swallowed hard then nodded. “Alright, love.” He held her close as she drifted off.

* * *

Sherlock woke to the sound of voices. He kept his eyes closed as he listened.

“This would be easier if I could actually see you, Mr. Holmes,” Molly said, and he could hear the amusement in her voice.

_That’s my girl,_ he thought fondly. _Never one to be intimidated, especially by pomposity._

“That’s not really our name, you know. Angels don’t have surnames, Dr. Hooper.” Mycroft sounded, as always, slightly annoyed.

_Has he ever loosened up? I’ll have to ask Anthea._

“Maybe angels don’t, but Sherlock does. He made it legal and everything. I didn’t ask how he got himself into the system, but as far as the human world is concerned, my fiancé is an ordinary, tax-paying, thirtysomething man with a taste for designer suits and a love of cooking.”

“I see. And did you do the same for Myrddin, Sherlock?” Mycroft asked.

_So much for pretending to still be asleep._ Sherlock opened his eyes and sat up, noticing that Molly must have covered him with a sheet when Mycroft showed up. She was in her dressing gown and standing by the foot of the bed, Mycroft standing near her. His brother wore all-white, his wings folded against his back. Molly was squinting a bit from the light he gave off.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “New rule, Mycroft – if you’re going to show up in my home, you will respect your future sister-in-law enough to use your human form.”

Mycroft sighed heavily. “Very well.” His wings and the light vanished.

Molly startled, staring at him. “That’s what you look like?” She smiled a bit. “Honestly, I was expecting you to be older.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at her. “I will take that as a compliment.”

Sherlock smiled a bit then snapped his fingers and he was wearing his clothes from before. He got up then moved to Molly and put his arm around her waist. “Is there a reason why you’re here without being summoned, brother dear?”

“I summoned him,” Molly said.

He looked at her, surprised. “Where did you even learn how?”

“All I did was say that I needed to speak to him.” She smiled a bit. “It was a lot easier than what I had to do to summon you.”

Mycroft chuckled. “We do like to make ourselves accessible. You haven’t said why you summoned me though, Dr. Hooper.”

“Well, first, could you please call me Molly? We’re going to be family soon.”

Sherlock smiled a bit. “She has a point.”

“Very well, Molly,” Mycroft said.

“I summoned you because I wanted to properly meet you and because Sherlock said he wanted to speak with you.”

“I … appreciate the gesture,” Mycroft said. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him. “You’re welcome. I’ll let you two talk.” She grabbed her clothes from before off the hope chest at the foot of the bed and took them into the en suite, shutting the door behind her.

Sherlock turned to his brother. “You know what’s coming. I need you to protect Molly and the baby if I don’t make it.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “I was wondering when you were going to mention the child. I’m afraid I am much too busy to look after them currently,” he paused when he saw the thunderous look on Sherlock’s face, “but I promise that they will be under my protection should anything happen to you. I can’t do anything more than that right now, Sherlock.”

“I want you here the moment of my death, do you understand?” Sherlock said firmly, his voice low. “You know how powerful Myrddin is. If this boy is anywhere near that powerful, Hell won’t stop until they have him.”

“I’m well aware of the consequences,” Mycroft said. He smirked. “After all, I was the one who made sure Myrddin was claimed by our side.”

Sherlock stared at him. “What?” He shook his head in disbelief. “No … that’s not right. Myrddin wasn’t claimed by Hell because I wasn’t there when Aldan gave birth to him. You had nothing to do with it.”

Mycroft grinned. “You weren’t there because you found a pretty maid to seduce instead. Who do you think that woman worked for?”

“I hope that woman wasn’t Anthea,” Molly said as she walked over to them.

“No, Anthea wasn’t created until a millennium later,” Mycroft said.

Sherlock barely felt Molly take his hand, he was so focused on his brother. “I spent a hundred years in torment for losing Myrddin to your side,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet, “then fourteen hundred years wondering what became of my son. Now you’re telling me it was all your doing?”

“Yes,” Mycroft said, smirking.

A moment later, he was on his arse, rubbing his aching jaw, while Molly was doing her best to pull Sherlock away from him.

“This is why I prefer not to take this form,” Mycroft muttered.

“Sherlock, stop!” Molly said firmly, getting between him and his brother.

“I never told you exactly what I went through in Hell, Molly,” Sherlock said quietly. “They subjected me to every kind of pain possible. It never stopped. I didn’t have even one moment of peace. And now I find out he’s the one responsible?”

“If Mycroft hadn’t distracted you,” Myrddin said from the doorway, “I wouldn’t be here.”’

“He’s right,” Mycroft said as he got up and dusted himself off. “Really, Sherlock, you should be thanking me.”

“Don’t push it, Mycroft,” Myrddin said.

Sherlock turned his glare from his brother to his son. “That door was locked.”

Myrddin smirked. “Most powerful wizard in history, remember? I saw my uncle was here. I would have intervened sooner, but well, he deserved that punch.”

“I beg your pardon?” Mycroft asked, affronted.

“You did,” Myrddin said. He turned back to Sherlock. “Unlocking the door took no effort at all.”

“I’ll remember that,” he muttered.

“I’d say it’s been a pleasant visit but you know angels shouldn’t lie,” Mycroft said.

“Never stopped you before,” Sherlock said.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “I would like to see my assistant before I go, just to see how she’s getting on.”

Myrddin raised an eyebrow. “You’re not keeping an eye on her?”

“I trust her,” Mycroft said as he assessed Myrddin, “though perhaps around you, I shouldn’t.”

“Anthea has done everything asked of her,” Myrddin said firmly.

“I see, and what have you asked of her?” Mycroft asked.

A moment later, he was on his arse again, this time with a hand over his nose.

“That is enough!” Molly said firmly. She turned to Sherlock and Myrddin. “Both of you, out. Myrddin, ask Anthea to come in. I’m going to see to Mycroft’s injuries.”

“Molly…” Sherlock started to say.

“Out!” she said, pointing to the door. “The two of you have done quite enough.”

Sherlock and Myrddin left the room. As soon as they were out of earshot, Myrddin smirked.

“You really did pick the right woman for you,” he said.

Sherlock laughed weakly. “It would seem so.”

* * *

“I assure you, Dr. Hooper … Molly, none of this is necessary,” Mycroft said as Molly insisted that he sit down. He sat down on the bed. “I don’t intend to keep this form long.”

“Just humor me,” she said. _Is being completely insufferable a family trait?_ She checked his jaw and nose. “You’re fine. I’m surprised they didn’t hit you harder.”

“So am I,” he admitted. “I suppose they were only trying to prove their points.”

“And did those come across?” Molly asked, smiling a bit.

“Clearly,” Mycroft muttered.

There was a knock on the slightly open door then Anthea came in. Molly watched the angel take a deep breath when she saw her boss.

“I’ll let you two talk,” she said.

“Thank you,” Mycroft said at the same time Anthea said, “You don’t have to go.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at her. “Pardon?”

“Molly’s my friend and this will only take a minute,” Anthea said. She took another deep breath. “Sir, when this mission is complete, I’d like to stay on Earth. I feel that I could serve Heaven better here.”

Mycroft sighed painfully as he stood up. “And does this request have anything to do with my nephew?”

“To be honest … yes.”

“You truly believe he is worth giving up a promising career?”

Anthea didn’t hesitate. “I do, sir.”

“Clearly, you see something in him that I cannot.”

“You’d see it too if you just let yourself,” she said quietly.

Mycroft was silent for a moment then he sighed heavily. “Very well. After your current mission, I will put through the paperwork for you to be transferred to Earth.”

Both women stared at him. “Sir … you mean that?” Anthea asked.

Mycroft nodded. “It will mean finding a replacement for you, but I would prefer not to see you rebel over something as inconsequential as love.”

Molly was so happy for Myrddin and Anthea that she nearly hugged Mycroft, but she knew that would not go over well, so she settled for beaming at him. “You’ve made the right decision, Mycroft.”

He waved a hand in dismissal then turned back to Anthea, who looked like she could scarcely believe her ears. “I will expect you to still behave like a proper angel.”

She snapped out of her daze. “Yes, sir, of course.”

“Good, now run along.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Anthea shot Molly a grateful look then left the room.

Molly turned to her future brother-in-law. “Have you ever been in love, Mycroft?”

“Such sentiment is beneath an angel.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Anthea just disproved that. Not to mention your brother’s an angel and he certainly knows what it’s like to love and be loved.”

“The Fall changed my brother greatly. It made him a demon, lower than even…” He trailed off at the sight of her raised eyebrow.

“You were saying?” she asked, smiling slightly.

“I do not share such sentiment.”

“You just haven’t found the right person.”

“You think there is someone out there who can miraculously make me believe in romantic love? Such a person doesn’t exist.”

Molly grinned. “You do realize you’re just tempting Fate now, right?”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Fate, as you put it, wouldn’t dare.”

“Whatever you say, Mycroft.” Molly rolled her eyes. “Is dealing with you what made Sherlock rebel?”

Mycroft blinked in surprise. “You mean he hasn’t told you?”

“No.”

“If he hasn’t, then I’m certainly not.”

“That’s the wisest thing you’ve said today,” Sherlock said from the doorway. He stood aside. “Out.”

“Yes, it’s time I left. It was a pleasure to meet you, Molly.” He glanced at her stomach. “And the child. We must meet again sometime.”

Molly smiled a bit. “Sarcasm, Mycroft?”

“Not … entirely.” He looked at Sherlock. “I expect you to ensure Anthea’s virtue remains intact while she is here.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Anthea is quite capable of looking after her own virtue, as you put it.”

“If anything happens to her-”

“She can take care of herself. Until later, Mycroft.”

Mycroft nodded. “Until later, Sherlock.” He disappeared.

* * *

Myrddin was on the sitting room sofa, talking to his father and the Watsons about Camelot, when he heard the door to his father and Molly’s room open. In his mind’s eye, he could see Anthea enter the guestroom, smiling happily. He turned to the others, grinning. “I think Anthea’s got some good news for me. If you’ll excuse me.” Without waiting for a response, he got up then went to the guestroom and knocked softly on the door.

“Come in, Myrddin.”

He opened the door and saw her standing by the bed, smiling at him. He grinned back. “How did you know it was me?”

“Process of elimination.” She held out her arms to him.

Three short strides and she was in his arms. Myrddin gazed at her, smiling a bit. “I’m guessing by your smile and general lack of tears that my uncle relented?”

She nodded, her smile widening. “Mycroft said he’ll put through the paperwork for the transfer when this mission is complete! Oh, Myrddin, it’s everything I wanted!”

“I guess this means I’ll have to actually thank him,” he said, smiling a bit.

Anthea giggled. “He’s not so bad, really.” She raised a hand to his cheek and murmured, “I have to behave myself, of course.”

Myrddin gazed at her. “I’ll always be a gentleman around you, Anthea.” He softly kissed her forehead. “I’d like nothing more than to take you to bed right now, but since that would get you in trouble, we can do the next best thing.”

“What’s that?”

He grinned. “Dance.”

Myrddin waved his hand and an iPod and speaker that looked suspiciously like Molly’s appeared on the desk. Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling In Love” started playing.

Myrddin let go of her then bowed and held out his hand, grinning. “May I have this dance?”

Anthea smiled through tears of joy. “Yes.”

She took his hand and he wrapped his other arm around her waist as she put her free hand on his shoulder. Despite the limited amount of open space in the small room, they were able to dance. When the song ended, Myrddin sent the iPod back to the kitchen then he sat on the bed and gently pulled Anthea into his lap, holding her close.

“I should be resting,” he said, “or eating. Anything to store up energy for the fight. But all I want to do right now is hold you.”

“We could sleep together,” she murmured. At his raised eyebrow, she added, smiling a bit, “I mean actually sleeping. We’re both adults, how hard can it be to share a bed without crossing the line?”

Myrddin smirked. “Being adults is exactly what makes it hard, especially for me.”

Anthea laughed softly, her cheeks bright pink. “Myrddin…”

He chuckled softly. “I’d say I’m sorry but that would be a lie.” He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. “You know, the first thing I noticed was your eyes, the second was your blush.”

“I noticed your voice first,” she said softly. “It’s so deep.” She smiled a bit. “Sinfully deep.”

He murmured in her ear, “There’s a lot of sinning I want to do with you, Anthea,” he lifted his head to look her in the eye, “but that will have to wait until it’s no longer sinning.”

She stared at him. “Myrddin, does that mean-”

“We’ll talk about it more after my father’s free, I promise,” he murmured. He set her on her feet then stood up. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

Anthea nodded then walked over to the closet. He watched her for a moment, smiling to himself softly.

_The most perfect woman in creation and she chose me. Maybe I should thank Nimue if I ever find her. If she hadn’t trapped me, I never would have met the love of my life._

She turned to him, smiling a bit. “Since we’re sharing a bed, why don’t we share these too?” She tossed him his royal blue pajama pants.

_That’s my girl._ Myrddin chuckled. “You’re determined to make things hard for me, aren’t you?” He pulled off his shirt and jeans, revealing his grey silk boxers.

Anthea grinned at him then turned around just as he was reaching for the waistband of his boxers. “Don’t look,” she said.

“I promise.” _The next time we share a bed,_ he thought, _we won’t have to worry about being modest._ He took off the boxers then put on the pajama pants and got into bed.

Anthea came over to the bed and Myrddin felt his breath catch as he gazed at her long, bare legs, flushed cheeks, and soft eyes. She chuckled softly as she crawled into bed next to him.

“The great Myrddin Emrys is actually speechless?” she teased fondly, her eyes dancing.

He chuckled softly. “True beauty always takes my breath away.”

She softly kissed his forehead then the tip of his nose. Just as he thought she was going to kiss his lips, she laid her head on his shoulder.

He held her close, murmuring, “As soon as the fighting’s done, I’m kissing you like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Promise?” she murmured.

“I swear.”

* * *

John raised an eyebrow at Sherlock. “Things are never dull around you, are they?”

He smiled a bit. “Not for the past week, at least.” He and Molly were on the sofa in the sitting room, John in the recliner and Mary sitting on the arm of the chair.

Molly smiled. “He’ll be bored soon enough. That’s when he starts cleaning.”

Mary chuckled. “Maybe I can get John to develop that habit. When he’s bored, he blogs.”

John smiled a bit. “When Mary’s bored, she cleans her gun.”

“I just can’t picture you as an assassin, Mary,” Molly said.

Mary smirked. “Neither could John. He thought I was just his sarcastic nurse. I told him about my past the night before the wedding.”

Molly thought for a moment, recollecting. “Before the rehearsal dinner? That’s why both of you were late?”

John nodded. “Threw me for a loop, but she didn’t want to marry me without me knowing the truth.”

“I still have some scruples left,” Mary said, smiling a bit.

“Aren’t you concerned about your past catching up with you?” Sherlock asked.

“At times,” Mary said, “but I’ve taken steps to minimize the chances of anyone from my past finding me now.”

John squeezed her hand then he glanced at the hallway, smiling a bit. “Do you think they’re coming out any time soon?”

“Probably not,” Sherlock said. He stood then offered his hand to Molly, who took it and stood up. “They’ll be hungry when they do, and we should all probably eat something.” He smiled fondly. “Especially Molly.”

“Why especially her?” John asked.

Mary grinned. “Because she’s eating for two now, right?”

Molly smiled happily. “Yes, I’m pregnant.”

John said, utterly confused, “Wait, you can’t know that already, you two only just had sex. Even the earliest pregnancy tests aren’t this quick.”

Sherlock chuckled. “I’m an incubus, John – seducing and impregnating women is my raison d'être.” He smiled lovingly at his fiancée. “Of course, I’m down to one woman now.” He turned back to John. “I ensured that Molly would conceive. The baby is due March 11th.”

John blinked in surprise. “That’s … quite impressive, actually.”

Molly laughed. “Please, his ego is big enough already.”

Sherlock laughed then walked into the kitchen. “I’m taking orders.”

“Spaghetti,” Molly said. “With meatballs.”

“Naturally,” Sherlock said, grinning. “Watsons?”

“I’d love spaghetti,” Mary said as she sat down at the peninsula. “Garlic bread too?”

“I’ll take care of that,” John said as he entered the kitchen. “And a tossed salad.”

Molly grinned as she sat down next to Mary. “There’s nothing better than watching men cook.”

“Amen to that,” Mary said.

Sherlock and John laughed.

* * *

Anthea woke to the smell of food wafting into the guestroom. She lifted her head from Myrddin’s shoulder to find him smiling at her softly.

“Hi, baby,” he murmured then softly kissed her forehead. “Sleep well?”

“Mmm, yes, very well,” she murmured, smiling softly. “I dreamt our handsome wizard and maiden fair were betrothed. What about you?”

Myrddin chuckled. “I’m a bit ahead of you – I dreamt they were on their honeymoon.”

“Is that so?” she murmured. “How was the wedding?”

“I don’t want to spoil it for you.” He smirked.

She chuckled. “We should get up, we don’t want to miss whatever your father made.”

“Mmm…” He held her close. “Not yet. Just let me hold you a little longer, baby.”

“We’ll have the rest of our lives to hold each other, Myrddin,” she murmured.

He smiled softly as he gazed at her. “I want three, you know.”

Anthea blinked. “Three what?”

“Kids.” He gently stroked her cheek. “A girl, a boy, then the other will be whatever Heaven decides to send us.”

She smiled a bit. “Children who are half-angel, a quarter human, and a quarter demon? Talk about a handful.”

Myrddin chuckled. “I think we can handle them. So, what do you say?”

“Three is a good number.”

He grinned and kissed her cheek.

* * *

Sherlock was seated at the dining room table and telling his fiancée and friends an embarrassing story about Mycroft when he heard Myrddin and Anthea enter the kitchen. “Food’s on the stove,” he called out, “help yourselves then come out here.”

“Then what happened?” Molly asked, smiling eagerly.

“Mycroft swore he would never spend more than an hour in human form again,” Sherlock said, smirking. “This was over three thousand years ago. As far as I know, he’s kept his promise.”

Anthea and Myrddin entered with their full plates just as everyone laughed. Molly was seated at the head of the table, Sherlock at the foot, John and Mary at Molly’s left and right. Myrddin took the seat at Sherlock’s right and Anthea at his left.

Anthea smiled a bit. “You and Mycroft are nothing alike, Sherlock. I have known him for a century and I have yet to see a genuinely happy smile from him.”

Sherlock chuckled. “I was going to ask you if he has ever loosened up.”

“I think he just needs to fall in love,” Molly said. She smiled at her fiancé. “Everyone is at their best when they’re in love.”

“Mycroft? In love?” Anthea asked, surprised. “I can’t picture that.”

“They say everyone has felt every emotion by the age of sixteen,” John said. “Mycroft is how old?”

“Four thousand and seven years old, to be exact.”

“And he’s never been in love?” Mary asked.

“He thinks it’s beneath him,” Anthea said.

Molly grinned. “That’s confirms it, we have to find someone for him.”

“I’m in,” Myrddin said firmly. “Maybe if he gets laid regularly, he’ll actually do the unthinkable and crack a genuine smile.”

“Who do we know that’s single?” Sherlock asked.

“There’s my friend Janine,” Mary said. “But if Mycroft is as uptight as you say, she’s probably too light-hearted for him.”

“I think he would need someone more like him,” Anthea said. “Dry wit, sarcasm, observing human nature and not liking most of what they see.”

Sherlock, Molly, John, and Mary looked at each other and all of them grinned knowingly.

Myrddin raised an eyebrow. “You have someone in mind.”

“I hope you don’t mean me,” came a familiar and amused female voice from the doorway.

_It’s about time,_ Sherlock thought as he rolled his eyes. “No, Irene.” Everyone stood up to look at her. “Everyone, this is Irene. She’s an … old friend.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Irene said, smirking.

“You’re a demon too?” John asked.

“She’s a succubus,” Sherlock said.

“I prefer the term ‘succuba,’” she said, grinning. “I don’t know how my kind ended up with the masculine ending.”

“Irene, these are my friends John and Mary, my son Myrddin and his girlfriend Anthea, and my fiancée, Molly.”

Molly stared at her. “Irene? You wouldn’t happen to use the surname Adler, would you?”

Irene raised an eyebrow, smiling a bit. “Have we met? I’m sure I would have remembered a lady as lovely as you.” She winked at her.

Molly blinked in surprise. “No, I used to date Jim Moriarty. He mentioned an Irene Adler, you called him during one of our dates. He wasn’t happy that you interrupted us and he called you something after he hung up. I thought I misheard him, but now it makes sense.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Irene asked, curious.

Molly smirked. “Succubitch.”

Irene chuckled. “Ooo, I like her!” She turned to Sherlock. “You always did have good taste in women, Sherlock.” She turned back to Molly. “If you ever get tired of this one, I’m always available.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “I thought succubi only seduced men.”

“I’m an equal-opportunity seductress,” Irene said. “Interested?”

“Sherlock is more than enough for me, thanks.”

“Well, I feel thoroughly dismissed.” Irene turned back to Sherlock. “What was it that you wanted?”

“To know if you’ll side with me against James,” Sherlock said.

“Sorry, Sherlock, but I like my head right where it is. Going against James is a death-wish, you know that.”

“Yet I’m still willing to try.”

“I wish you all the best of luck, really, but I can’t have any part of it.” Her apologetic smile was almost genuine.

“I’ll remember this, Irene,” he muttered darkly.

She smiled a bit. “I’m sure you will, Sherlock.” She disappeared.

“Bloody hell,” Sherlock muttered. At everyone’s questioning looks, he said quietly, “She was the last demon, everyone else had already declared they would either side with James or not fight at all. I had hoped someone would be willing to oppose him.”

“You have us, Father,” Myrddin reminded him. “We will stand with you.”

“Until the end,” Anthea said.

Sherlock smiled at them gratefully. “I won’t forget this.”

* * *

Hours later, Sherlock and Molly were in the foyer while the others waited in the sitting room. She had her head on his shoulder and their arms were around each other tightly.

“When it’s over,” Molly murmured, “come straight home.”

He chuckled. “Where else would I go, love? Everyone in the world that I care about is right here.” They could hear the others laughing. “Myrddin and Anthea, John and Mary, Greg too even though he’s not here.” He softly kissed her hair. “You. Our son. I will come home to you both as soon as I can.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said. She lifted her head and he lowered his to kiss her deeply.

All too soon, Sherlock pulled back, gazing at her. “I love you, Molly. I love our son.”

“I love you, Sherlock. And I know he loves you too.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and laid a hand on her stomach. “I’ll be back before you know it.” After one final kiss, he looked to the sitting room. “Myrddin, Anthea, we’re leaving.”

Myrddin and Anthea came over to them. Sherlock gazed at Molly one last time then the three of them disappeared.

Mary came over to her, smiling gently. “C’mon, Molly. Netflix is calling.”

They were halfway through some fantasy epic that Molly wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to when John’s mobile chirped. He picked it up and read the text.

_10:37p Watson, I need you and Mary here, we’re outnumbered! They have us pinned down! SH_

_10:40p Since when do you call me Watson? JW_

_10:41p Since now! SH_

_10:43p What about Molly? JW_

_10:44p Tell her to keep the door locked and not to let anyone in! A demon can’t enter unless invited! SH_

_10:46p What, like a vampire? JW_

_10:47p Where do you think vampire writers got the idea? SH_

_10:49p We’re on our way! JW_

He turned to Mary and Molly. “That was Sherlock, they need us.”

“What about Molly?” Mary asked.

John looked at Molly. “He said just keep the door locked and don’t let anyone in.”

“That’s it?” Molly asked, surprised.

“That’s it,” John said.

As soon as the doctor and the retired assassin left, there was a knock on the door.

_Don’t answer it_ , Molly thought.

The person knocked louder. “Dr. Hooper?” an unfamiliar male voice asked. “Are you there? Sherlock sent me.”

Despite the warnings, Molly went to the door and looked through the peephole. A tall man with short ginger hair and blue-gray eyes was standing in the hallway.

“Identify yourself, please,” she said loudly.

“That’s not really necessary,” the man said, but this time the voice came from behind her.

Molly whirled around, her eyes wide. The man was standing in front of her, smiling a bit.

“I should probably introduce myself,” he said. “The name’s Sebastian.”

“Sebastian? You’re Seb? Seb Moran?”

He chuckled. “James told you about me?”

“He mentioned you once or twice. He likes you.”

“I should hope so, I’m his right-hand man. Right now, he wants you.” The two of them disappeared.

* * *

Sherlock had never fought so hard in his life. Every time he killed a demon, another came after him. Whenever he glanced towards Myrddin or Anthea, he could see they were holding their own, but he knew Myrddin’s magic wouldn’t last much longer.

Finally, Sherlock found himself face-to-face with his archenemy. James was at the back of the restaurant, seated on a chair balanced precariously on a pile of tables and chairs. He smirked down at Sherlock.

“You’re weak, Sherlock. You’ve grown soft.”

“I’ll show you soft,” he said quietly. He hacked his sword at the tables at the bottom of the throne until the entire pile came crashing down with James along with it. Sherlock grabbed the bruised but laughing demon prince by the collar, raising his sword arm to strike. “Release me!”

“Never!” James shouted, laughing. “I own you!”

“Let him go, James!” another voice shouted.

Sherlock risked a glance behind him and saw James’ second-in-command, Sebastian standing nearby. _Why the hell isn’t he fighting?_ He looked back and saw James was fixated on Sebastian.

“It’s over,” Sebastian said.

James looked back at Sherlock, smiling a bit. “Alright, Sherlock, you’ve won. Just don’t complain when you realize what you’re missing out on.” He snapped his fingers and he, Sebastian, and every demon left suddenly vanished.

Sherlock suddenly felt a rush of cold air flow through him and he fell to his knees in relief. Myrddin and Anthea, both bruised and bleeding, staggered over to him.

“Father?” Myrddin said, confused. “What … what happened?”

“It’s over,” Sherlock said as he stood up shakily. “We won, I can feel the contract has been broken.” He smiled weakly. “Let’s go home.”

The three of them staggered out of the restaurant, Myrddin holding Anthea steady, then they stopped dead when they saw John and Mary run over to them, guns drawn.

“Sherlock!” John shouted. He and Mary stopped dead as well a couple of feet from them. “Where’s the ambush? I thought you were pinned down?”

Sherlock’s wide eyes turned furious. “What the hell are you talking about? Where’s Molly? Who’s with her?”

“We got your text,” Mary said. “You told us to come.”

“You said Molly would be safe on her own,” John said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sherlock said. “What text?” He reached for his phone but when he realized his jacket pocket was empty, his face paled. “We’re leaving.” He tried to take the shortcut but nothing happened. “What…”

“Hell is closed to you now,” Anthea said. “That’s what James must have meant about what you’re missing out on. You can’t go through hell again.”

“I have to get to Molly!” He sounded almost frantic.

“Allow me,” Myrddin said quietly. “Campions don’t need a shortcut.” A moment later, the five of them appeared in Sherlock and Molly’s foyer. Myrddin staggered backwards then leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

“Molly!” Sherlock called out, leaving his son in Anthea’s care. He walked into the sitting room, the Watsons following him, and found his mobile on the coffee table. He picked it up and saw there was a new text. He opened it.

_11:36p Molly really is a lovely girl. I don’t know why I ever let her go. This time, I won’t. J_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made and sacrifices are demanded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end, folks. One more chapter after this.

“Let me get this straight,” Sally Donovan said, raising an eyebrow at Sherlock. “You’re a demon, that guy over there who looks like he could be your brother is actually your son, oh and by the way, he’s Merlin, and the woman Greg tried to ask out is an angel?”

“Yes!” Sherlock snapped. He had only met the police sergeant a couple of times before but never found her truly exasperating until that moment. “But the only thing that matters is that my pregnant fiancée has been kidnapped! John seems to think NSY’s expertise will come in handy, but considering that you are hung up on irrelevant details, I find it hard to believe!”

When they had realized Molly had been taken, John had insisted that they call Greg. Sherlock had found himself explaining everything to Greg over the phone, and having to repeat himself multiple times when Greg didn’t believe what he was hearing. Thankfully, the idea of Molly in danger was enough to make the detective inspector forgo any additional questions. He’d sent Sally to the flat in case James contacted them again and Sherlock had to explain everything a second time.

“Now wait a minute, Holmes!” Sally said peevishly.

“People,” Mary said patiently, “we are losing time. Greg and his officers are checking the restaurant?”

Sally nodded. “He’ll let me-” Her mobile rang. “That must him.” She stepped away to take the call.

Myrddin was asleep on the sofa, dead to the world. Anthea was kneeling on the floor next to him, his hand in hers, watching him protectively.

“Anthea,” Mary said gently, “he’s going to need something to eat when he wakes up. Maybe you can make both of you something while you wait?”

Anthea blinked in surprise. “Oh, you’re right… Thank you.” With one last glance at Myrddin, she got up and went into the kitchen.

Sherlock turned from glaring at Sally’s back to look at John. “Could you keep an eye on Anthea, John?”

John smiled. “Sure.” He went into the kitchen.

Mary turned to Sherlock. “Is there anyone we can ask for help?”

“Mycroft,” Sherlock replied.

“You called?” Mycroft asked as he appeared in human form in front of them.

Sherlock walked over to his brother and, for the second time that day, raised his fist, this time with every intention of breaking Mycroft’s jaw. Mycroft held up a staying hand and Sherlock found himself unable to move.

“Release me!” he demanded.

“Not until you behave like a civilized demon,” Mycroft said, smirking.

Sally came over and stared at the two brothers. “What the hell is going on now and who the hell is this?”

Sherlock felt his brother release him and he lowered his arm, sighing quietly. “Sally, my elder brother, Mycroft. Mycroft, this is Sgt. Sally Donovan. She’s a … friend.” At Sally’s raised eyebrow, he added, “You know our secrets now, I might as well consider you a friend.”

She considered his words for a moment. “Fair enough. Greg checked the restaurant. You’re not going to believe this-”

“There is little I won’t believe these days,” Sherlock said.

“The restaurant is gone.”

“You mean empty?” Sherlock asked.

“I mean gone – it’s just an empty storefront. It’s as if the restaurant was never there in the first place.”

Everyone stared at her. “That’s not possible,” Mary said quietly. “We were just there.”

“Are you sure they’re at the right place?” John asked from the kitchen.

“They checked the address,” Sally said. “Greg’s looking into the owner’s information now for a home address.”

“He won’t find one,” Sherlock said quietly.

“Everyone’s looking for her, Holmes,” Sally said as gently as she could. “They’ll find her.”

“He’s a demon prince in hiding, it will take more than mere human abilities to find him.” Sherlock ignored her glare then turned a glare of his own on his brother. “You should have been here to protect Molly and my son. You owe me from now until Doomsday, Mycroft. You can start with lending me a legion.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “I’ll admit that I owe you, brother dear, but I cannot pay a personal debt with the services of 5,000 angels. If you want to use them, they will have to be given something in return.”

“Such as?” Sherlock asked.

“It must be a sacrifice.”

“What kind of sacrifice?” asked a sleepy voice from the sofa.

Everyone turned to see Myrddin looking up at Sherlock and Mycroft.

“Myrddin,” Anthea said from the kitchen, “you should be sleeping, you nearly passed out from exhaustion.”

“In a minute, baby, I want to hear what Mycroft is going to demand of us.”

“Not us, me,” Sherlock said firmly. “It’s my fiancée who’s missing. If anyone’s going to sacrifice something to get her back, it should be me.”

“Actually,” Mycroft said, “the sacrifice would have to be paid by Anthea.”

“What?!” Sherlock and Myrddin demanded in unison. Myrddin sat up, glaring at Mycroft. “And what, exactly, do you expect her to sacrifice?”

“My freedom,” Anthea said quietly.

“Essentially,” Mycroft agreed. “If you willingly give up any chance of an Earthly life, I will send Sherlock’s former legion to assist in the search and join in the battle against James’ forces.”

“Former legion?” John asked, confused.

“I was a colonel in Heaven’s army before the Fall,” Sherlock said, “just like James. But that’s not important right now.”

Anthea approached Mycroft. “Sir … you said I could transfer. You promised.”

“The decision is still yours, my dear.”

“Either she stays on Earth or Molly and the baby could die?” Myrddin asked. “That’s not a choice, Mycroft.”

“Sir … may I have a moment to consider?” Anthea asked.

“Of course,” Mycroft said.

Anthea glanced at Myrddin then walked to the guestroom. Myrddin got up shakily then followed her, yawning.

Sherlock turned to Mycroft. “You never intended to let her transfer,” he said darkly. “You only said that she could so you could force her to come back. This is low even for you, Mycroft.”

“I am not forcing her to do anything,” Mycroft insisted.

“You’re making her choose between Earth and Molly, that’s not a choice.”

“It’s a lot more specific than that, Sherlock,” John said.

* * *

“He’s making you choose between me and Molly,” Myrddin said quietly. He was sitting on the bed with Anthea sitting in his lap, his arms around her securely and his chin resting on her hair. “This isn’t right.”

“It’s not,” she agreed, “but there’s nothing I can do. We can’t defeat James or even find him without the legion’s help. If giving up a life with you will save Molly and the child, then I’m sorry, Myrddin, but it’s what I have to do.”

“Believe me, baby, I’m not asking you to choose me.” He softly kissed her hair. “Anthea … after this is all over, I’m not going to look for someone else. You’re it for me, no one else could even come close.”

She raised her head to stare at him. “Myrddin, no. I want you to find love, I want you to be happy.”

He gazed back at her. “I can’t be happy with anyone but you,” he said, lifting a hand to stroke her cheek. “I love you, Anthea.”

“I love you too, Myrddin,” she murmured, her eyes wet. “I won’t forget even a second of our time together.”

“Promise me what when you’ll get to Heaven, you’ll fight tooth and nail to come back to me.”

“I promise. If I must, I’ll resign.”

He blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

She nodded. “It would mean needing permission to return to Heaven and they’re not likely to give it. Only one angel has ever resigned.”

“What happened?”

“He chose to go to Hell.”

Myrddin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t mean James?”

“No, his lieutenant colonel.”

* * *

"What do you mean, you can’t bring her?” James demanded through the wall of flames. “She went through Hell with Sherlock several times.”

“Going through Hell isn’t the same as being in Hell, James,” Sebastian said patiently. “She’s destined for Heaven, that means she can’t be in Hell, even temporarily.”

The demon prince sighed overdramatically. “Fine. Keep her in the antechamber for now until I decide what to do with her.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t know?”

“I’m making this up as I go, sue me.” The flames vanished.

Sebastian rolled his eyes then looked at Molly, smiling a bit. “You threw him for a loop, Dr. Hooper – he didn’t expect to see you here this morning.”

“He expected Sherlock to go to a restaurant by himself?” Molly asked, surprised. She was sitting in a desk chair in an enclosed office at the back of the restaurant, a cup of tea in her hands. It had been made by Sebastian just after they had arrived. _Except for the part where he kidnapped me, he’s been really … I don’t know if “sweet” is the right word, but definitely “courteous.”_ _What’s he up to?_

Sebastian was leaning against the desk, a cup of coffee within reach. “He designed this place just to lure Sherlock.” He chuckled. “It’s proving to be very popular with the locals. He wasn’t expecting that either.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Does he not plan ahead at all?”

“That’s the thing – he’s normally three steps ahead of everyone else, myself included. It’s just anything that has to do with Sherlock, he suddenly becomes more emotional than rational.” Sebastian smirked. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he has a crush.” He sipped his coffee.

“Well, Sherlock’s definitely not interested.” Molly absently laid a hand over the lower half of her stomach.

“Oh, bloody hell,” he muttered. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you? Do not, if you know what’s good for you, do that around James.”

“Do what?” Molly asked, confused.

“Touch your stomach. James is very observant. He’ll know you’re pregnant and all hell will break loose, literally. It’s bad enough that James has Sherlock’s fiancée. If he knew he had Sherlock’s unborn child too, there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

“Why are you warning me?” she asked suspiciously.

Sebastian smiled faintly. “A few reasons, but mainly because I’m trying to get back home.”

“Home? As in Heaven?”

He touched a finger to his nose. “If I let anything truly bad happen to a couple of innocents like you and your son, there’s no way they’ll let me back in.”

“But … you’re a demon. You Fell, just like Sherlock and James.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” In a heartbeat, Sebastian was in his demonic form. It was the same as Sherlock’s, but instead of black wings, Sebastian’s were dark grey.

“Gunmetal,” Molly said, the word coming to her unbidden.

Sebastian nodded and turned back to his human form. “The fallen angels have black wings.”

“You’re saying you’re a demon but you didn’t Fall?”

“No, I jumped.” He smiled a bit.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s my way of saying I resigned.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I sat out the war. Unlike James and Sherlock, I didn’t want to rebel – I was perfectly happy with my life as it was.”

“Then why would you resign?”

“I wanted to be with James. After the Fall, I asked for permission to leave. When that wasn’t given, I resigned.”

“So, you regret it?” Molly sipped her tea.

“Every damn day of the past three thousand, eight hundred and seventy-seven years, but I know that I would have regretted not being with James more.”

“Is James your boyfriend?”

Sebastian smiled faintly. “James doesn’t do romance.”

“That’s not tr-” Molly was cut off by Sebastian’s raised eyebrow. “No, you’re right… Why have you stayed with him all these years if he doesn’t love you?”

“Devotion can be a one-way street, Dr. Hooper. I can and have followed James anywhere.”

“But what about Heaven? There’s no way they’d let him back in.”

“I’m hoping to bring him round to my way of thinking.” Sebastian smiled a bit. “He’s got lot to atone for, my James, but nothing’s impossible.”

“Good luck,” Molly muttered, but she realized that some small part of her actually meant it.

Sebastian inclined his head a bit. “Thank you.”

Molly looked out the window of the office at the rest of the restaurant. “Why hasn’t Sherlock come for me?” she asked quietly, more to herself than the demon beside her.

Sebastian chuckled. “That’s right, you wouldn’t be able tell from this side. There’s a glamour over the restaurant – from outside, it looks completely abandoned. We’re literally hiding in plain sight.”

* * *

Anthea and Myrddin walked hand-in-hand out of the guestroom and back to the sitting room. Mycroft raised an eyebrow at them but said nothing.

“I’ve decided,” she said firmly. “I will do anything to save Molly and the baby.”

“Good,” Mycroft said, smiling triumphantly. “I will summon the legion. Of course, I will expect you and Sherlock to lead them.”

“Yes, sir,” she said quietly and Mycroft went into Sherlock and Molly’s office, closing the door behind him.

“Right,” John said firmly, “everyone who is human, part-human, or pretending to be human needs to eat and rest while we wait for word on Molly, doctor’s orders."

Anthea went back to making sandwiches in the kitchen, with Myrddin and John pitching in. Mary set the dining room table for seven. After Mycroft had summoned the legion, Sherlock insisted that his older brother bring in one of the office chairs. Mycroft said such manual labor was beneath him but no one was listening.

Once everyone was seated, the other six had a laugh over the fact that Mycroft’s slightly lower chair meant that he was a couple of inches lower than the rest of them. Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“We are all adults here,” he glanced at Sherlock and Myrddin, “more or less. I would expect a little more decorum.”

“Just blowing off steam before the big fight,” Myrddin said, grinning.

“What did Capt. Renatus say?” Anthea asked.

“The captain sent out search parties,” Mycroft said. “He’ll tell us when they find Molly.”

John smiled a bit. “I wonder what will happen if the angels run into the police officers.”

“Angels can choose to be completely invisible to humans,” Mycroft said, helping himself to a roast beef sandwich from the platter.

“Then, we could be watched without knowing it?” Sally asked, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

Mycroft smirked. “You’re always being watched, even without an angel present.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “The ultimate Big Brother. It’s one of the reasons why I rebelled.”

“If we’re always being watched,” Sally said, “then why was Dr. Hooper taken?”

Sherlock noted that his brother at least had the decency to look embarrassed. “It was my duty to watch her but I let myself be distracted,” Mycroft said quietly.

“Then you should join the fight,” Sally said firmly. “If everyone else is risking their necks to correct your screw-up, you should too.”

“I’m afraid I would be more of a hindrance on the battlefield than anything else.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “That’s the first honest thing you’ve said today.”

“Yes, well, a gentleman knows his limitations.”

“So, you didn’t fight in the big battle between the loyal angels and the rebel angels?” John asked.

Mycroft nodded. “I refused to fight because I knew that if I did, I could end up fighting my own siblings.”

“Siblings?” everyone but Sherlock asked in unison.

“As in, there’s more than just the two of you?” Sally asked. “God help us.”

Mycroft sighed heavily. “I didn’t intend to let that slip but yes, Sherlock and I have a younger sister.”

“Does Molly know?” John asked.

“Not yet,” Sherlock said. “I was going to tell her before the wedding.”

“What happened to her, Sir?” Anthea asked Mycroft. “You’ve never mentioned her.”

“She Fell,” Sherlock said before Mycroft could respond, “but not all the way. Somewhere between Heaven and Hell, she got … lost.”

“No one has seen her since,” Mycroft said. “Even I have not been able to locate, despite numerous searches.”

“I can try to find her,” Myrddin said.

“Not until after this battle and you’ve slept for a week,” Anthea said firmly.

Myrddin smirked at her, amused. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I … appreciate the offer,” Mycroft said.

“Less talking, more eating,” Mary said with a smile. No one was willing to cross the former assassin, so all of them ate in silence.

* * *

After they had their fill, everyone except Mycroft and Sally left the room to lie down. Sally remained in her seat as Mycroft switched to one of the dining room chairs.

She smirked at him. “Tired of everyone looking down at you?”

“Quite,” he muttered. “I prefer to be the one looking down.”

“Literally or figuratively?”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “Both.”

She smiled a bit. “How often do you actually come down here?”

“Normally, hardly ever,” Mycroft admitted, “but since Sherlock became interested in Molly, I’ve been forced to come to Earth a few times.”

“And you’ve hated every minute of it, right?” She smirked. “You’d rather be sitting on your cloud, watching all of us ants down below.”

Mycroft chuckled. “Something like that, yes.”

Sally assessed him for a moment. “You don’t look like the angels in the paintings.”

“An angel in human form looks like any other human. It’s how we are able to go about your world visible but undetected.”

“So, without that form…?”

Mycroft sighed heavily. “I suppose you want a demonstration.”

“Would be nice, yeah,” Sally said, grinning. “It’s probably going to be a while before anyone, police or angels, find Molly. Might as well do something to pass the time.”

Mycroft stood up and moved away from the table then he snapped his fingers. There was a soft sound behind Sally. She turned to see that the curtains had closed. When she turned back, she had to cover her eyes.

“Bloody hell, that’s bright,” she muttered.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “Language.”

She removed her hand from her eyes and glared in his direction. “I’ve got a gesture for you and I’ll use it as soon as I stop seeing spots.”

He knew the moment when her vision had cleared as that was when she stared at him. Not in his direction, directly at him. Mycroft felt uneasy as she took in his pure white wings, which he had completely unfurled.

_This shouldn’t be happening,_ he thought. _She’s a mere human, she shouldn’t be able to properly see me like this._ “You can see me?” he asked quietly.

Sally rolled her eyes. “Of course I can see you, you’re standing right in front of me.”

“When an angel appears to a human in their natural form, all the human can see is the angel’s light.” Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not part demon?”

Sally smiled a bit. “Mum used to call me her little hellion but I’m as fully-human as they get.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Mycroft muttered.

Sally moved closer to him, reaching out a hand towards his right wing but then she pulled it back, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, guess I should ask permission first.”

Mycroft blinked in surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time someone wanted to touch him without wanting to inflict pain. “I … believe that would be a bad idea.”

She smiled a bit. “Yeah, not exactly the purest person on the planet. Wouldn’t want you to get soiled.” She took a step back.

Mycroft folded his wings against his back and assessed her. “What could you have done?”

“Had an affair with a married coworker, for one thing.” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. “It was just a distraction. I ended it after a couple of months – I was tired of everyone looking at me like I was a homewrecker.”

“And were you?”

“Their marriage was shite long before I started shagging him.”

Mycroft felt his cheeks redden. “I, er, hope you avoid entanglements with married men in the future.”

She smiled a bit. “No need to worry about that – I’ve switched to men who are completely unavailable. No chance of ‘entanglements’ there.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the pining type.”

“If by ‘pining,’ you mean sighing over some bloke’s photo while listening to some treacly love song, then you’re right, I’m not.” Sally’s smile widened to a grin. “If you mean fantasizing about shagging a man I’ll never have, then I definitely am.”

He sighed painfully. “Is sex all you humans ever think about?”

She smirked. “There wouldn’t be seven and a half billion of us if it wasn’t.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Thankfully, angels are above all that.”

“Right – that’s why Molly’s pregnant and Anthea is currently in bed with your nephew.”

“My brother is a demon and Anthea knows she needs to behave herself.”

Sally sat down in the closest chair, smiling a bit. “You know, sex itself isn’t wrong.”

Mycroft went back to his human form then took the chair across from her. “That depends on who’s having it.”

She raised an eyebrow, smiling a bit. “You can’t make a statement like that and just leave it, Mycroft. You gotta elaborate. Go on, impress me with your prudishness.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes again. “Sex was intended for procreation, therefore sex outside marriage is immoral.”

Sally burst out laughing then smacked a hand over her mouth when she realized how loud she was being. Still, her eyes were dancing. After a moment, she lowered her hand, grinning. “You’re serious? You’re absolutely serious?”

“Would I have said it if I weren’t?”

“Good point. Look, Mycroft, things were different when you were young.”

Mycroft smirked. “Mankind didn’t exist yet when I was ‘young.’”

“Fine, things were different a few thousand years ago. People these days don’t have to be married or even in love to have sex.”

“Then it loses all meaning.”

“Trust me, sometimes you don’t want it to have meaning.”

Mycroft slowly shook his head. “Just when I think I understand humans, I hear something like that.”

Sally chuckled. “Sometimes a person just needs a good shag to release all their tension.” She thought for a moment. “Though, to be honest, a good laugh or a good cry are almost as effective.”

“There, you see?”

She smirked. “I said ‘almost.’”

Mycroft rolled his eyes again.

“Maybe you should try getting laid, Mycroft. You’re certainly tense enough.”

He sat a little straighter but could feel his cheeks reddening. “I think not.”

Sally raised an eyebrow then her expression softened. “Have you ever?”

“My sexual history is not up for discussion,” he said firmly.

“I’m going to take that as a no. There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin, Mycroft.” She smiled a bit. “Even at your age. It’s only wrong if you’re denying yourself just because of some outdated moral code.”

“Morals are never outdated. What is good will always be good, and what is sinful will always be sinful.”

“Fine, outdated sense of propriety. Just find yourself a consenting adult and have at it.”

“What makes you think I’m even interested in intercourse?”

“You’re telling me you’re not the least bit curious?”

“I asked first.”

Sally rolled her eyes. “Real mature there. Fine, I think you’re interested because you blushed when I suggested it.”

“I could simply be uncomfortable with the topic.”

“Oh, you are, I could tell that too, but there was definite longing in your eyes.” At his raised eyebrow, she added, “I’m a detective, I know how to read people. Part of you wants to know what it’s like. You can deny it to everyone, including yourself, but you won’t be satisfied until you’ve tried it.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “Is this your way of offering?”

She chuckled. “I think you should definitely shag a human, just not specifically this one. And don’t take it personally, I’m not looking for a new relationship right now.”

“You just said-”

“While I don’t have a problem with no-strings-attached shagging, I get the feeling that you can’t divorce sex from emotion. Any man or woman you’re with would have to touch your heart before they touch your body.”

“That’s … rather poetic, actually.” At her expectant look, he added, “And true, I’m afraid.”

She nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out for any single people who’d like a relationship with the most straight-laced person on the planet.” She smiled a bit. “I probably should’ve asked this sooner, but what’s your preference? Male? Female? Both? Don’t say neither, we’d both know you’d be lying.”

Mycroft managed a weak chuckle. “Female.” At her expectant look, he added, “After being around many humans over the centuries, I find I only feel attraction to women. However, you shouldn’t bother looking – I will be going back as soon as Molly is found and James is brought to heel.”

“I’m going to look anyway – you could always come back.”

“Probably,” Sherlock muttered from the doorway, “but I doubt it’ll be this century.”

Mycroft and Sally turned to look at him. “You’re supposed to be in bed, Holmes,” Sally said.

“Can’t sleep,” the incubus said quietly. “I keep thinking about Molly and our son.”

“Someone will find them,” Sally assured him. “I’m sure James can’t hide from both humans and angels forever.”

“He could if he were in Hell,” Sherlock said.

“Molly can’t be in Hell,” Mycroft said firmly. “Her soul is too pure, it is physically impossible for her to be taken to Hell.”

“What if he stashed her somewhere on Earth then went to Hell?” Sally asked.

“Exactly my thinking,” Sherlock said. “If we find James, we can force him to tell us where Molly is.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to Hell, an unexpected boon, and the final showdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft's quote is from Shakespeare's Richard II, Act III, Scene II.

Myrddin stared at his father. “You’re asking one of us to go to Hell.”

Everyone was gathered in the sitting room two hours after most of them had gone to lie down. There was still no news on Molly, but Sherlock had an idea.

“Actually, I’m asking you, Myrddin,” Sherlock said. “Hell is closed to me, the angels are too pure, and it’s too dangerous for anyone who’s fully human.”

Myrddin looked at his father and uncle. “Between the two of you, I’m being asked to give up or risk an awful lot.” He didn’t even hesitate. “It’s a good thing I like Molly.”

Sherlock only nodded, but Myrddin could see the gratitude in his eyes. “Most likely, you’ll find James in the palace, on his throne. He likes to talk. Hell, half the time, he won’t shut up. Stay hidden and wait for him to say where he has Molly, it probably won’t take long.”

“Staying hidden won’t be a problem.” Myrddin snapped his fingers and he was dressed in the black robes Sherlock and Molly had found him in.

John raised an eyebrow. “That’s not exactly inconspicuous.”

Myrddin chuckled. “Don’t judge by appearances, John. Remember, I’m Merlin – every fantasy wizard is based on me. You could call this my Invisibility Cloak.” He pulled up the hood and suddenly disappeared from view.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Cute, son. Show yourself.”

Myrddin reappeared as he lowered the hood, grinning. “Trust me, no one will know I’m there.”

“It’s still dangerous,” Anthea said quietly from where she stood beside him.

He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “I’ll be fine, baby. I’m half-demon, I should feel right at home there.”

“Don’t do anything foolish,” she said firmly. “We need you back in one piece.”

“We?” he echoed, smiling a bit.

“I,” Anthea said softly. “I need you back in one piece.”

He softly kissed her cheek. “I promise.”

“How does Myrddin even get to Hell?” Mary asked.

“Portals to Hell are more common than people realize,” Sherlock said. “Any dark, abandoned place can be a portal, it’s just a matter of finding where the boundary between the dimensions is thin enough. The most stable portal in England is in a tunnel under the Palace of Westminster.”

John smirked. “I always knew politicians were going to Hell.”

In no time, Myrddin was deep in the tunnels under the Palace of Westminster, the only source of light a glowing orb in his hand. Suddenly, he ran into a wall of heat and he knew he’d found the portal. The orb stopped glowing and he stuck it in a pocket of his robes. Taking a deep breath, he pulled up his hood then walked through.

The air was full of smoke and the stench of sulfur, both of which burned his lungs with every breath, but it was the sight that met his eyes that was almost enough to make him turn around and go back. Sherlock had said the portal led to the edge of Pandemonium and Myrddin could see the capital of Hell, the white buildings gleaming in the light of countless fires and rivers of lava. He thought the buildings were made of marble but as he got closer to the city, he realized, to his horror, that they were made of bone.

_As soon as I get back, I’m going to be sick._ Myrddin made his way through the city and was almost at the palace when he saw a semi-familiar face. _What the hell?_ He grabbed the man’s wrist and dragged him into a nearby alley.

“Who’s there?” Tom asked, looking around frantically.

Myrddin lowered his hood and Tom jumped. “Relax, Tom,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The dead man stared at him. “You’re Myrddin…”

Myrddin raised an eyebrow. “You know who I am?”

“I know everyone who’s connected to Molly. My punishment here is to see how happy she is now and know that I could have had that with her if I wasn’t so damn self-centered.”

“You’re saying you have visions of her life?”

Tom nodded. “They’ll hit when I least expect them. They hurt like, well, like Hell, but at least I know she’s loved.”

“She’s loved, but she’s not safe right now,” Myrddin said gently. “James had her kidnapped. My father sent me here to see if I can overhear James say where he’s keeping her.”

Tom looked like he was about to faint, which Myrddin thought was impressive considering he was deathly pale to begin with. He slowly sat down, his back against the building. Myrddin knelt beside him.

“Is there anything you can tell me that’ll help?” Myrddin asked.

Tom shook his head but then his eyes lit up. “Sherlock hasn’t devoured a soul since he killed that bastard who killed me. That was two months ago. He and James get their strength from souls. James devours a soul a day. There’s no way Sherlock is going to be strong enough to face James unless he devours another soul.”

“You’re talking about condemning someone to oblivion,” Myrddin said. “He swore he’ll never do that again.”

“He has to!” Tom said frantically. “It’s the only way to save Molly!”

“Calm down,” Myrddin said firmly. “Even if my father were willing, the other person would have to be willing too. Who’s going to accept oblivion?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Tom asked quietly. “I’m here because I always put myself first, even when I was with Molly. She wanted kids, I kept telling her to wait. During the mugging, Forsythe pulled a gun on us and what did I do? I used Molly as a shield. I was fully prepared to let him shoot her just so I wouldn’t get shot.”

Myrddin nodded, remembering the visions he’d seen. “That’s one hell of a self-preservation instinct you had.”

“I’m grateful to say it didn’t work – he shot me in the head, the only part of me I didn’t hide behind Molly.” He sighed painfully. “I heard Molly say to Sherlock later that she knew I never would’ve sold my soul to avenge her if she had been the one to die. She was right then, but not now. Molly deserves to be safe and happy. If sacrificing myself will guarantee that, then it’s what I need to do.”

“But it means your existence will stop. No afterlife, nothing.”

“I understand, Myrddin. After a selfish life and a painful afterlife, let me do one good thing.”

Myrddin sighed heavily. “Alright. I’ll tell my father and Molly.”

“You have to tell Sherlock but don’t tell Molly. I don’t want anything to intrude on her happiness with Sherlock.”

Myrddin raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you were sent to the right place?”

Tom smiled weakly. “Maybe this moment is the reason why I’m here.”

Myrddin smiled back. “Maybe. I’m going to have to smuggle you out of here. Close your eyes.”

When Tom’s eyes were closed, Myrddin pulled the orb from his pocket and started chanting in Latin. Tom’s form turned to smoke then the smoke flowed into the orb.

_I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to Father,_ Myrddin thought as he put the orb in his pocket. _At least Tom won’t be able to regret his decision._ He pulled the hood back up then left the alley and headed once more towards the palace.

* * *

The sun had risen by the time Myrddin appeared in the sitting room. Sherlock grabbed his son’s wrist.

“What did you hear?” he demanded. “Where are they?”

“Calm down, Father,” Myrddin said gently. “Molly’s at the restaurant.”

“That’s not possible,” John said. “Greg said the place is abandoned.”

“Capt. Renatus said his angels found a psychic trace of Molly left from when she had visited in the morning,” Mycroft said, “but that’s all.”

“James’ buddy Sebastian put a glamour over the whole place,” Myrddin explained. “It’s hiding the restaurant and them. I’d be impressed, if Molly weren’t in danger.” He looked at Sherlock. “James kept talking about Molly but he didn’t mention the baby at all. I don’t think he knows she’s pregnant.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Sherlock said. “Who was he talking to?”

“Irene. He was trying to convince her to join him since he had ‘all the cards,’ as he put it.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she doesn’t want to get on your bad side.” Myrddin smiled a bit. “James was annoyed that she feared your bad side more than his.”

“She really doesn’t want to get involved, does she?” John asked.

“Irene’s first loyalty has always been to herself. We need to go, now,” Sherlock said firmly. “I’m not leaving my fiancée and unborn child in his hands another minute.”

“We can’t do anything without a plan,” Anthea said. “Now that we know where he’s keeping Molly, we have the advantage but we’ll lose that if we just blunder our way in.” She looked at Myrddin. “Did he say how many demons he has at the restaurant?”

“It doesn’t matter – there’s a portal to Hell in the back, he can send as many as he wants. Even with the legion, we could still be outnumbered.”

“I could summon another legion if necessary,” Mycroft said.

“And what’s that going to cost us?” Myrddin asked darkly. “My firstborn? Since you’re already taking the love of my life from me, there isn’t going to be one.”

“A second legion would be gratis.”

“A second legion would be unnecessary,” a new voice said.

Everyone turned to see an angel in his natural form. Only three people in the room recognized him.

“Captain,” Mycroft said, nodding.

“Hello, Renatus,” Anthea said.

“Dimmock?” Sally asked, staring at him. “What the hell?”

Renatus looked just as surprised as his colleague. “You can see me?”

“We’ve already established that Sgt. Donovan must have demon blood,” Mycroft said, making Sally roll her eyes.

“If you don’t mind,” John said, “some of us can’t see angels properly. Who’s this?”

He changed to his human form. “My real name’s Renatus, I’m a captain in Heaven’s army. These days, I am assigned to Earth when the army doesn’t need me. Donovan and Lestrade know me as Detective Inspector Rene Dimmock.”

“Well, this explains why you’re always so by-the-book, and why you called in sick last night,” Sally muttered. “Honestly, could this get any weirder?”

“Just wait till you see angels and demons fighting,” Myrddin said.

“With all due respect,” Dimmock said, “the humans should stay out of this.”

“Like hell we will,” Sally said fiercely. “It’s my duty to protect the citizens of London, even from demons.”

“Molly’s our friend,” Mary said, just as fiercely. “We’re going to do all we can to save her and the baby.”

“And you can’t stop us,” John added, smirking.

Dimmock looked to Mycroft and Anthea, unsure. “Ma’am? Sir?”

“They can get Molly out while the rest of us take on the horde,” Anthea said.

“I’ll go with them,” Dimmock said. “They may need a protector.”

Sally rolled her eyes. “Just worry about yourself, Dimmock. I’m calling Greg, he can keep civilians away from the area.” She turned away as she dialed his number.

“The rest of you, take down as many demons as you can,” Sherlock said, “except James, he’s mine.”

“You’ll need this,” Myrddin said as he pulled the smoke-filled orb out of his pocket and handed it to him.

Sherlock stared at the orb in his hand then turned to his son. “Is this…?” He didn’t need to ask, he could practically feel the power from the soul calling him.

Myrddin nodded. “Yeah, it’s a soul.”

“Whose? I swore I’d never devour another.”

“It’s Tom’s,” Myrddin said. “I found him outside the palace. When I told him what happened to Molly, he insisted that you’d need to devour a soul to be strong enough to face James.”

“I can’t, he doesn’t deserve oblivion.”

“It’s his final wish.”

“Sherlock,” John said gently, “Tom was an ass but he did love Molly. If he wants to end his existence helping you save her, I think you should let him.”

“It’s just this one time,” Mary said gently. “Save Molly and you’ll never have to devour another.”

Sherlock nodded then held up the orb, saying softly, “Thank you, Tom.”

He squeezed the orb until a large crack appeared then he tilted his head back and held the orb over his mouth. Tom’s soul flowed out of the orb and into his mouth and Sherlock could feel his strength increasing. He changed to his demon form, his irises blazed bright red.

“Bloody hell,” Sally muttered, her eyes wide, as she took a step back. “Yeah, big difference between angels and demons.”

Sherlock realized everyone else was staring at him too, though in surprise. “What is it?”

“Sherlock, look at your wings,” Mycroft said.

Sherlock turned to his left and saw that his wing was now gunmetal grey. He raised an eyebrow then looked back at Mycroft.

“The closer you get to your former self,” his older brother said, “the more your wings go back to being white.”

“They’ll be even lighter when I rid the world of James,” Sherlock said. He looked at Myrddin. “Can you take all of us to the restaurant?”

He nodded. “Is everyone ready?”

Before Sally could say yes, Mycroft lightly touched her shoulder. “Be careful, Sergeant,” he murmured. “London’s streets have not prepared you for a demonic battle.”

Sally blinked in surprise then smiled a bit. “London’s streets have prepared me for just about anything. I’ll be fine, Mycroft.”

Myrddin rolled his eyes. “If you’re done hitting on the police officer, Mycroft, we’re leaving.”

“I wasn’t...” Mycroft started to protest but was cut off by Sally’s giggles.

“Hold down the fort for us,” she said, grinning.

Before Mycroft could respond, they vanished. He sighed heavily. “‘Then if angels fight, weak men must fall, for Heaven still guards the right.’ I only hope James is weak enough.”

* * *

Molly was sipping another cup of tea when Sebastian’s head jerked up as if he’d heard something.

“What?” she asked, suddenly wary.

He looked at her. “Sherlock’s here, with some friends, and a bloody legion.” He grinned. “I can stop worrying about you and the baby. All I have to do now is make sure James doesn’t do something utterly stupid, like get all of us killed.” Sebastian straightened then seemed to pull a broadsword from thin air, the sword glowing as if it were made of light.

Molly’s eyes widened. “You’re going to kill someone with that.”

“It’s for defense only, I use a bow normally. I intend to survive this battle but I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“Sebastian, you know Sherlock intends to kill James.”

He nodded. “I won’t hurt your fiancé, but I can’t let anything happen to the man I love.” Sebastian looked up as they heard excited voices in the restaurant. “I believe the cavalry’s at the door. Might as well make it easier for them.” He waved his hand. “There, the glamour’s gone, we’re out in the open again.” Not even a moment passed before the sounds of fighting were heard. “Get under the desk,” he said firmly.

Molly didn’t hesitate to do as she was told. “What can you see?”

“A lot of angels fighting with James’ guards. I think I even recognize- Fuck!” He ducked and covered his head as a chair came crashing through the window, shards of glass raining down as the chair hit the far wall.

A moment later, Molly looked up as the door burst open and Mary, John, Sally, and the glowing form of an angel ran into the office. Sebastian stood up and held up his hands as the three humans pointed their guns at him.

“Don’t shoot!” Molly said quickly as she scrambled to get up.

“No one’s going to shoot you, Molly,” John said. “The demon, on the other hand…”

“His name is Sebastian and he’s been kind to me,” Molly said firmly.

The angel changed to his human form, glaring at Sebastian. “He’s the one who kidnapped you.”

“Besides that,” Molly said.

“Nice to see you too, Ren,” Sebastian muttered.

“You two know each other?” Sally asked, confused.

“Renatus and I have met in battle a few times,” Sebastian said. “He nearly killed me last time.”

“I should have killed you,” Dimmock said angrily. “Then your soul would be trapped in Hell where you belong.”

“I’m trying to get back to Heaven.”

“Oh yeah?” Sally asked sarcastically. “Kidnapping a pregnant woman is really going to help your cause.”

“James ordered Molly’s kidnapping,” Sebastian said defensively. “He didn’t care who did it. I knew that if I wasn’t the one, whoever did take her would treat her mercilessly. By getting to her first, I was protecting her.”

“If you’re so concerned about her protection,” Mary said, “then you won’t stop us from taking her back.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Of course I won’t stop you, I’ve been waiting for someone to come get her. I’ll just tell James I was outnumbered, he won’t question it.” He turned to Molly, smiling a bit. “Say a prayer for me, Dr. Hooper.”

“I’m not really the praying type,” Molly said, smiling weakly, “but I will.”

“Let’s go,” John said. He, Mary, and Sally surrounded Molly, who kept her head down, and the four of them left the office.

Dimmock didn’t move, keeping his eyes fixed on Sebastian. “I should still kill you.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “They need a protector, they’re not out of the woods yet.” He grinned. “I’m sure you’ll have another chance to kill me, Ren. It just won’t be today.”

With another glare, Dimmock went back to his angelic form then followed the others out of the office.

Sebastian sighed heavily. “Forget Ren, James is going to kill me.”

* * *

Sherlock was running after James, both men in human form, when the restaurant’s fire alarm started blaring and all of the overhead sprinklers turned on, drenching everyone and everything in sight.

_That’s the signal,_ he thought. _They have Molly and they’re getting out!_ Relieved beyond words, Sherlock jumped over an overturned table and chased James out of the restaurant and into the parking lot.

Every angel and demon who had been in the restaurant followed them. The parking lot and the sky above it was immediately ringing with the sounds of fighting. Sherlock momentarily lost James in the chaos then found him again at the edge of the parking lot, almost outside the glamour Myrddin had cast to keep humans from seeing what was going on at Le Petit Diable. _I just hope Myrddin can keep this up._

Sherlock grabbed James by the collar of his shirt just as the demon prince was about to flee. He held his sword high and was about to take off James’ head with it when a hand grabbed his wrist. Sherlock turned to see Sebastian standing there.

“Sorry, Sherlock, but I can’t let you kill him,” Sebastian said, calm despite the iron grip he had on Sherlock’s wrist.

“I should kill you both for daring to hurt Molly,” Sherlock spat.

“Sherlock!” Molly shouted as she, the Watsons, Sally, and Dimmock ran over. “Don’t kill him!”

Sherlock stared at her. “Molly, James is a threat to all of us as long as he lives.”

“Make him swear, Colonel,” Dimmock said. “Make him swear that he’ll never hurt you or yours.”

“Swear on what?” Sherlock asked. “He holds nothing dear.”

“His life,” Sebastian said. “It’s the only thing that matters to him.”

Sherlock wrenched his wrist free of Sebastian’s grip then roughly turned James around. He held his hand over James’ heart and white light started to flow from it. “Swear on your life you’ll never again hurt me or mine.”

“Oh, Sherlock…” James said, grinning. “You’re so weak.”

“Swear it!” Sherlock shouted. “Swear it or I’ll kill you right now!”

“Listen to him, James,” Sebastian said firmly. “This has gone on long enough. Just swear it and we can all go home.”

James looked past Sebastian and Sherlock to Molly, eyebrows raised. “What have you done to my sniper? He’s gone soft.”

Molly smiled a bit. “I haven’t done anything to him, this is just the way he is.”

James rolled his eyes then looked back at Sherlock. “You could always come home, Sherlock. All of this could be forgiven. Just think – endless women, no responsibilities, no limits.”

“There’s only one woman I want,” Sherlock said, “and I have her.”

“I can fix that,” James said, smirking.

To Sherlock, it seemed like time slowed to a crawl the moment the words left James’ mouth. He could only watch as James raised a hand towards Molly. Sebastian’s shouted “No!” was ringing in Sherlock’s ears as the sniper pushed him aside and moved in front of Molly just as a bolt of red light shot of out James’ hand. It hit Sebastian and he was immediately engulfed in white-hot flames. John and Mary grabbed Molly and pulled her away just as Myrddin and Anthea came running over. Grey mist flowed from the wizard’s hands to surround Sebastian, putting out the flames. He fell to his hands and knees, his clothes and hair still smoking.

“You idiot!” James shouted as he dropped to his knees in front of him. “I could have killed you!”

“Better me than Molly,” Sebastian muttered, then he started to cough.

“You’ll be alright,” Myrddin said as he helped him up, “I got to you before the flames did.”

“James Moriarty, I’m placing you under arrest for attempted murder,” Sally told the still-kneeling demon prince, a pair of handcuffs in her hand.

“That won’t be necessary, Sally,” Sherlock said. “All James has to do is swear.”

James looked from Sherlock to Sebastian, who was still coughing. He sighed overdramatically. “Fine…” He rolled his eyes. “I swear on my life that I will never hurt Sherlock or anyone under his protection.”

Sherlock put his hand to James’ heart. White light flowed into James’ chest and he inhaled sharply.

“If you even think about breaking your vow,” Sherlock said darkly, “you’ll die.”

“He’ll keep his vow,” Sebastian said hoarsely. “He’s got too much to live for.”

James stood up then said firmly, “I’m taking you home, Seb. Honestly, the things I have to put up with.”

Sebastian chuckled as James grabbed his hand. The sniper turned to grin at Molly, who grinned back happily, then James, Sebastian, and the rest of the demons vanished.

Sherlock embraced Molly so tightly that she almost couldn’t breathe, and she hugged him back just as hard.

Anthea grinned at her friends then looked to the other angels, who were gathering around them. “Casualties?”

“None on our side, ma’am,” one of the female angels said. “We sent over a hundred demon souls back to Hell.”

“Good. Thank you, lieutenant. Take the legion back and write up a report, I’ll add it to mine and deliver it when I get back.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The lieutenant saluted Anthea then she and the rest of the angels disappeared.

Anthea turned to Dimmock. “Are you staying, Renatus?”

The angel’s reply was cut off by Greg running over to the group.

“Is it over?” he asked, then he caught sight of Dimmock. “Dimmock? What are you doing here? I thought you were sick.”

“There’s a lot to talk about, Greg,” Mary said. “Why don’t we all go back to Sherlock and Molly’s?”

“Excellent idea,” Sherlock said, still holding Molly close.

“Allow me,” Myrddin said. He waved his hand and all of them disappeared.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The countdown to the wedding begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this story is longer than I thought. Instead of 8, it's now 9 chapters. What can I say, the characters aren't done yet. 
> 
> In case you missed it, my Mormor ficlet "An Aside" takes place before this chapter.

They appeared in Sherlock and Molly’s sitting room.

“Sit down, Myrddin,” Anthea said immediately.

The wizard did as he was told, sitting down on the sofa and looking bone-weary, and Anthea sat next to him, holding his hand. Sherlock went into the kitchen and started on breakfast with Molly supervising, while Mary asked John to pick up Rosie from the sitter’s. Dimmock started explaining everything to Greg, who looked like he’d had enough surprises in the past twenty-four hours, thank you very much.

Sally went looking for Mycroft and found him asleep in Sherlock’s chair in the office, snoring lightly. She smiled to herself and just watched him for several minutes. Conversations from the other room started flowing through the open door and when they got too boisterous, Mycroft woke up, blinking in surprise when he saw her.

“Sergeant?” he asked softly. “The war is over?”

Sally grinned. “Yep, we won.”

“Thank Heaven,” Mycroft murmured. He looked her over, concerned. “You’re uninjured?” At her amused look, he stiffened. “I see you survived the battle well enough.”

“What’s wrong, Mycroft?” she asked, smiling a bit. “Afraid of showing the world that you have a heart?”

“I’d hate to ruin my reputation.”

Sally rolled her eyes then took his hands and pulled him to his feet. She smiled at the slight blush on his cheeks when he saw how close they were standing.

“Your brother’s making victory pancakes.” Sally grinned. “Want to see how many everyone can eat before we all crash?”

Mycroft chuckled. “I suspect it won’t be many.”

“Donovan!” Sherlock shouted from the kitchen. “Quit flirting with my brother and get in here if you want to eat these while they’re still hot!”

Sally could feel her own cheeks redden and she shouted back, “I’m not flirting!”

“Then get in here!”

She rolled her eyes then stuck out her tongue at Mycroft for chuckling. “Are all Holmes men so-”

“Insufferable?” Mycroft asked, smirking.

Sally smirked back. “I was going to say ‘annoying,’ but ‘insufferable’ works too.”

“Technically, only Sherlock is a Holmes.”

“Uh huh. So, you’re saying you’re not insufferable?” Sally asked as she lead the way to the kitchen.

“I’m saying no one has dared to call me that to my face.”

“Right.” Sally walked into the kitchen and took Sherlock’s offered plate of pancakes then grabbed an empty seat at the peninsula.

Mycroft tried to decline breakfast but Sherlock shoved a plate at him anyway. He sat down next to Sally, who was eating like she had just gotten through a week-long fast. Mary sat across from them and grinned.

“Is something going on between you two?” she asked.

“Yes,” Sally said, grinning back.

“No,” Mycroft said at the same time, scowling a bit.

Mary laughed. “I think you’d better work on that.”

By the time John came back with Rosie on his hip, everyone was seated at the peninsula or in the sitting room and all of them were working through a stack of pancakes. Myrddin finished his and rested his head on Anthea’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you go lay down?” Anthea asked softly.

“Mmm, I’m fine where I am,” Myrddin mumbled sleepily.

“What’s next on our To Do list?” Molly asked her fiancé, smiling. She was in the sitting room’s recliner, he was sitting on the floor next to her.

Sherlock grinned up at her. “We ask Fr. Christopher if he’ll waive the six-month waiting period. If he can, I’m marrying you as soon as possible.”

“And if he can’t?”

Sherlock smiled a bit. “We go to the courthouse now and get the marriage blessed later.”

“I’m afraid Anthea and I will have to miss your nuptials,” Mycroft said. “We need to return promptly.”

Everyone stared at him. “You’re going to miss your own brother’s wedding?” Sally asked, surprised.

“I must put my duty to Heaven above everything else,” he said, “as does Anthea.”

“Can’t you wait a day or two?” Molly asked. “We’d love to have both of you there.”

“I’m afraid not.” Mycroft finished his pancakes then stood.

Sally grasped his hand. “You don’t have to go right this minute, you know. Stay a little longer.”

“If only I could,” Mycroft said quietly. “Farewell, my dear.”

“That sounds pretty … final,” she said quietly, letting go of his hand.

“I can’t imagine I’ll have much reason to come to Earth after this.”

Sally did her best to hide how much his words stung. “Goodbye, Mycroft.”

“Sir,” Anthea said from the sitting room sofa, “may I have a moment to say goodbye?”

Mycroft sighed heavily. “Very well, but be quick about it.” He looked at Sherlock and Molly. “Keep in touch, brother mine. Welcome to the family, Molly.” After an unreadable glance towards Sally, he disappeared.

Sally watched as Myrddin, who looked absolutely dead on his feet, got up then helped Anthea up and both of them left the room. She looked at Sherlock, raising an eyebrow. “Think she’ll disobey Mycroft?”

“No, unfortunately,” Sherlock said. “She deserves happiness but she won’t get it as long as Mycroft is her superior.”

Dimmock, who had been pretty quiet after explaining things to Greg, spoke up. “I’m going to take a few more days off, there are some things I want to look into.”

Sally smiled a bit. “You certainly have plenty of sick time – last night was the only time you’ve taken off in ages.”

He smiled weakly. “It helps to be immune to everything.”

* * *

As soon as they were in the guestroom, Myrddin pulled Anthea into his arms and kissed her deeply. His heart soared as he felt her kiss him back. _Forget her home, **this** is Heaven._

When they both felt the need to breathe, Anthea pulled back to gaze at him then she laid her head on his shoulder, her arms tight around his waist. Myrddin held her close for a moment, one hand coming up to softly stroke her hair.

“I didn’t properly ask you before so I’m asking now.” He let her go then got down on one knee in front of her, taking her left hand in both of his and gazing up at her adoringly. “Anthea, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she murmured, tears of joy in her eyes.

Myrddin beamed at her then kissed her hand and a diamond ring appeared on her ring finger. Anthea blinked in surprise then raised her hand to get a better look at it.

“Two carved swans on each side of the gold band,” he murmured as he stood up. “Symbols of eternal love since they mate for life. The diamond’s about two carats, just the right size for your hand.”

“Where on Earth did you find this?” she asked softly, gazing up at him. “It’s not from your time.”

Myrddin chuckled. “Correct, it’s only about a century old. We didn’t have this kind of engagement ring back then. I traded some coins from my time for it the other day at a pawn shop a few blocks from here.” He raised a hand to gently stroke her cheek and murmured, “Come back to me, Anthea, whatever it takes.”

“I swear.” She kissed him softly then murmured, “It’s time.” She swallowed hard. “My duty is there but my heart is with you, you know that.”

“I know, baby,” he said softly. “You wouldn’t be the woman I love if you turned your back on your duty. C’mon.” Myrddin took her right hand and walked with her back to the sitting room.

Mary was the first one to notice the ring. “Congratulations, you two!” she said, beaming at them from the sofa, Rosie on her lap.

Everyone else offered their congratulations too, Molly and Sherlock getting up to hug them both.

“I’m going to miss all of you so much,” Anthea said, her voice choked with tears, “but I promise I will return.” With a final glance at Myrddin, she vanished.

The sound of metal hitting wood was heard immediately after. Myrddin sighed quietly as he bent down to retrieve Anthea’s ring from where it had fallen on the hardwood floor.

“That wasn’t a rejection,” Dimmock said gently. “Anthea literally couldn’t take it with her. She must not have realized it until that moment.”

“It’s okay, Renatus,” Myrddin said. A silver chain appeared in his hand. He put the ring on it then put the chain around his neck. “I’ll keep it safe until she comes back.”

Mary smiled gently as she hugged Myrddin. “She’ll be back before you know it.”

“I doubt that,” Myrddin said quietly as he hugged her back. “But thank you.”

“I think it’s time everyone go home and get some rest,” she said, turning to the others.

“Good idea,” John said. “I think I could sleep for a week.”

“How in the hell am I going to write this up?” Greg muttered.

“No one outside the glamour could actually see anything,” Myrddin said. He smirked a bit. “Just say it was a gas leak.”

“I’m all for that,” Sally said. “The less paperwork, the better.”

Greg rolled his eyes but didn’t object.

“Thank you all for everything you’ve done for us,” Molly said.

“Anything for family,” John said as he picked up Rosie. “You know that.”

After everyone else had left, Sherlock and Molly turned to Myrddin. Sherlock had one arm around his fiancée. With his free hand, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a key, handing it to Myrddin.

“I wish this was at a happier moment,” Sherlock began, “but Molly and I wanted to give you something.”

“A key to the flat?” Myrddin said, smiling weakly. “Thank you, but you know I can just pop in and out, right? I don’t need to use the door.”

Sherlock smirked. “It’s not to our flat.”

“Then where’s it to?”

Molly grinned. “The flat across the hall. We bought it for you.”

Myrddin stared at them. “You bought me a flat?”

“Fully-furnished, I might add – Molly and I went shopping,” Sherlock said. “We also set up a human identity for you, including a healthy bank account. You have a wedding to prepare for and a king to find, you shouldn’t have to worry about making a living.”

“You’re officially Myrddin Emrys Holmes now,” Molly said, beaming. “To the rest of the world, you’re Sherlock’s younger brother.”

“I … I don’t know what to say except, well, thank you.” He hugged Molly and Sherlock and felt his eyes were wet.

“Why don’t you go lie down?” Molly said. “You can move your stuff over later.”

He smiled a bit. “Trying to get rid of me so soon?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said, smirking.

Myrddin chuckled. “Got it.” He left the flat, one hand touching the ring around his neck.

* * *

Sherlock turned to Molly as soon as Myrddin was gone. “Are you sure you’re alright, love? I could have John come back and take a look at you.”

Molly rolled her eyes, smiling a bit. “I’m fine, I swear. Sebastian took good care of me, under the circumstances, and our friends got me out of there without a scratch.” She yawned softly. “The baby and I could use a nap, though. What about you?”

“I want to talk to Fr. Christopher first, then I’ll join you.”

“Mmm, sounds like a plan.” She kissed his cheek then left the room.

Sherlock thought back to when he met Fr. Christopher, the day after he proposed to Molly.

_He didn’t discuss his plan with Molly. Having no idea how she would react, Sherlock decided it would be better if he knew the result first. After Googling the closest Catholic church to their flat, he walked over, pausing just outside the open front doors._

By rights, I should either not be able to enter at all, or burst into flame the moment I step inside, _he thought. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the threshold._ Well, I made it through. _He glanced down at his hands._ Not even smoldering. _He continued to walk into the church, checking his hands every few feet._

_“You do know spontaneous combustion is a myth, right?” an amused male voice asked behind him._

_Sherlock turned to see a middle-aged priest with glasses smiling at him. “How did you-”_

_The priest chuckled. “Every so often, a person will come in here half-convinced that they’ll burst into flames. If that were the case, we’d need a fire extinguisher at the end of every pew.” He held out his hand. “Welcome to St. Jude Church. I’m Fr. Christopher Williams, the pastor here.”_

_Sherlock shook his hand. “Sherlock Holmes.”_

_“Are you here for confession, Mr. Holmes?”_

_“Sherlock, please, Father. No, I’m … not exactly Catholic.”_

_Fr. Christopher smiled a bit. “You’ve fallen away?”_

_“Something like that. There is something I want to discuss with you.”_

_“Alright, let’s go to my office. It’s almost teatime.”_

_Once they were seated in the priest’s small office with their tea, Fr. Christopher asked, “So, if you’re ‘not exactly Catholic’ and only ‘something like’ a Catholic who has left the Church, what are you?”_

_“Not what you’re expecting, certainly,” Sherlock said, smiling a bit._

_Fr. Christopher smirked. “Try me. I’ve heard it all.”_

_“I’m a fallen angel.”_

_He raised an eyebrow. “I see… That’s certainly a new one.”_

_“You don’t believe me.”_

_Fr. Christopher chuckled. “On the contrary, you don’t seem be lying. That tells me you’re one of three things – a pathological liar, a mentally ill person who truly believes he’s a fallen angel, or-” He stopped dead when Sherlock made his eyes glow red for a heartbeat. Fr. Christopher lowered his voice. “You truly are what you say you are.”_

_“I am,” Sherlock assured him. It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “You’re not afraid.”_

_Fr. Christopher shrugged. “If you were here to kill me, you would have done it by now. If you’re trying to tempt me to break my vows, you’re doing a piss-poor job of it.”_

_Sherlock smirked. “Have you met one of my kind before?”_

_Fr. Christopher said, smiling a bit. “I’ve always shown hospitality to strangers, so like the Bible says, maybe I’ve helped angels, fallen or not, unawares.”_

_Sherlock chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m here because I am in love with a human woman and we want to marry.”_

_“Why did you come here? Surely marrying at the courthouse would be easier.”_

_“It wouldn’t feel like a true marriage to me unless it was done or at least blessed by a priest.”_

_Fr. Christopher nodded. “That is a sign of your angelic nature. Even after your fall from grace, you still seek goodness. Are you trying to get back home?”_

_“I am trying to get back to Heaven, yes, but my home is wherever Molly, my fiancée, is.”_

_“Is Molly Catholic?”_

_“No. She doesn’t know that I’m here, I wanted to get a priest’s consent first before I told her.”_

_“Are you living together?”_

_“Yes, is that a problem?”_

_“It’s not an ideal situation, but I don’t consider it an impediment.” He seemed to think it over for a moment. “Despite the fact that neither of you are Catholic, I will perform the ceremony, provided both of you take the wedding preparation classes we require of all engaged couples. I can modify the curriculum a bit for your special situation. Also, there is a mandatory six-month waiting period.”_

_“Thank you, Father. We haven’t set a date yet but I’m sure that will work for both of us.”_

After the call, Sherlock found her asleep on her side by the time he got to the bedroom. She opened her eyes when he laid down beside her.

“What did he say?” she murmured, cuddling to him.

Sherlock held her close, chuckling. “Considering he’s already aware of my true nature, he’s terribly accommodating of us. He’ll marry us on Saturday, provided we cram six months’ worth of wedding prep classes into five days.”

“How on Earth are we going to do that?” Molly asked.

“He said he’ll meet with us every day after you’re done with work. I think we can do it, what about you?”

She smiled a bit. “As long as there’s not another crisis looming, sure.”

He laughed softly. “I really hope you didn’t just jinx us, love.”

* * *

While his father and Molly spent the week preparing for their wedding, Myrddin divided his time between making his new flat feel like home, looking for the portal to Avalon, and thinking about Anthea. Every night, he lay in bed and gazed out the window at the stars, one hand holding her ring.

_Another day without you, baby. I hope you’re okay. Come back to me soon, Anthea. I love you._

On Wednesday, John invited Myrddin and Greg to join him at John’s favorite pub, “but don’t tell Sherlock.” Myrddin rolled his eyes but did as he was told.

That night, the three men sat at a table in the back, John keeping one eye on the door. Greg chuckled at his friend as he sipped his beer.

Myrddin smirked. “He’s not going to come running in and insist that we include him, John. Relax.”

John took a sip of his beer and sighed. “You’re right, I know, but ever since I found out he’s a … _you know_ , I keep expecting him to be omniscient or omni-present or some other omni- word.”

The wizard laughed. “I think you’re confusing him with me. I’m the all-seeing one, he’s the one who used to seduce every woman he met.”

“And now he’s down to one woman, our Molly,” Greg said. “On Saturday, he’ll settle into the life of a husband and soon-to-be second-time father.”

“Right,” John said, “which is why he needs the best stag night we can give him.” He ignored Myrddin’s eye roll. “I asked Molly, she said she’s fine with anything but strippers.”

“I think we should just keep it simple and do a pub crawl,” Greg said.

Myrddin smirked. “If you want to get him drunk, it’s going to take more than **a** pub crawl, more like a dozen.”

“It’s not about getting Sherlock drunk,” John insisted. “It’s about having fun.”

“Then let’s forget the pub crawl and just do what he likes to do,” Myrddin said.

“What, kissing Molly and cooking up a storm?” Greg asked, smiling a bit. “He does that every day.”

“Why don’t you just forget about the stag night and just have something with everyone after the rehearsal dinner?” Sally asked as she approached their table, grinning.

The three men stared at her. “Why didn’t we think of that?” John asked.

“It’ll be a last hurrah for both of them,” Greg said.

“Exactly,” Sally said, still grinning. She sat down next to Greg. “I didn’t want to interrupt your little planning session but I hate to see grown men floundering.”

John smiled a bit. “Yeah, it’s hard to plan a stag night for a man you’ve only known a couple of months.”

“Was Mary planning a hen night for Molly?” Myrddin asked.

Sally smiled a bit. “Honestly, we’re just going to pig out and watch a bunch of chick flicks.”

“That sounds like a lot more fun,” Greg admitted.

John took out his phone and started typing. “I’m texting Mary to see if she’s okay with making her hen night co-ed.”

Sally smiled a bit. “Works for me.” Her smile faded. “It’s just too bad that not everyone can be there.”

“You mean Mycroft?” Greg asked, smiling a bit.

“And Anthea,” Sally said, giving Myrddin a sympathetic look.

Myrddin smiled weakly. “Thanks. I’m hoping they’ll both show up at the church right before the wedding starts.”

John looked up from his phone. “Mary’s good with the co-ed idea. She wants everyone to bring their favorite junk food. No booze.”

“Finally,” Greg muttered, “a wedding where I’m not hungover.”

* * *

The rehearsal Friday afternoon was going well until John realized he had forgotten Molly’s wedding ring. Fr. Christopher reassured them that mistakes in the rehearsal usually meant a flawless ceremony.

After dinner at Angelo’s, everyone went to the Watsons’ house. Sherlock and Molly sat on the sofa, Sherlock with a piece of his Death-By-Chocolate cake and Molly with a fully-loaded sundae.

Mary sat down next to Sherlock, grinning. “If nobody objects, I’d like to start this little film festival with one of my favorites, _Emma_.”

“Jeremy Northam or Mark Strong as Mr. Knightley?” Molly asked, grinning.

“Northam,” Mary said, “but Strong’s Knightley is almost as good.”

John brought his wife a piece of Sherlock’s cake then sat down at the floor by her feet with his own. Sally sat down on Molly’s other side with a plate of brownies and biscuits and Greg sat in the armchair by her with a couple of doughnuts. Myrddin, not finding anywhere else to sit, conjured another armchair and put it at the other end of the couch.

John smirked. “Where were you when we were decorating this place?”

Myrddin smirked back as he sat down. “Stuck in a tree, I wouldn’t recommend it.” He started munching on a chocolate bar as Mary started the movie.

About halfway through the movie, Molly laid her head on her fiancé’s shoulder, sighing contently. Mary grinned at both of them then took out her phone and snapped a photo.

“I want to show the world that this is what it looks like when friends fall in love,” she said as she posted the photo to her social media pages.

“What about us?” John asked.

Mary smirked at him. “I asked you out on your first day at the clinic, we weren’t friends first. I wasn’t about to let the new, hot doctor get away.” She grinned at her husband’s blush.

“I’m not sure if it’s right to say Sherlock and I were friends first,” Molly said, smiling a bit. “He was chasing me from the beginning.”

“I wanted to seduce you,” Sherlock said, “then we became friends, then we fell in love so Mary’s still right.”

“All this happened in less than a month, yeah?” Sally asked, smiling. “Nothing like a whirlwind romance.”

“Speaking of romance,” Greg said, “what about you and Mycroft?”

“You can’t call what we had a romance, we barely had a moment. It’s been five days, haven’t heard from him.” Sally took a bite of a frosted brownie. “Not that I really expected to – he made it pretty clear he won’t be back.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “And you believed him? I didn’t see my brother at all from the Fall to the night I proposed to Molly, but I could always feel him watching me.”

“Are you sure that wasn’t your guilty conscience?” Molly asked, grinning at him.

“Maybe both?” Sherlock asked her, grinning back. He turned back to Sally. “If he cares, he watches. If he really cares, he shows up.”

“Then we’re waiting to see if he really cares,” Sally said. By her tone, everyone could tell that she had her doubts. She looked at Myrddin. “What I’m going through is nothing like you’re going through, though. At least you know Anthea loves you. All I know is that Mycroft showed a little interest.”

Myrddin nodded, one hand absently playing with the ring still around his neck. “We are in the same boat – both of us waiting for Mycroft to get off his angelic arse.”

Sally giggled. “When you put it like that, yeah. I just hope he does it sooner rather than later.”

* * *

Just before midnight, Mary and Sally pulled Molly to her feet. “I’m driving you home, Molly,” Sally said.

“But it’s not even midnight,” Molly protested.

“It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.” Mary grinned. “Say goodnight to Sherlock. He’s staying with us tonight.”

“I am?” Sherlock asked as he stood up.

“I suggested that you stay with me,” Myrddin started, smiling a bit.

“But the temptation to see Molly would be too strong if you’re only across the hall,” John finished, grinning.

Sherlock rolled his eyes then smirked at his fiancée. “It’s like they’ve met me or something.”

Molly laughed softly then murmured, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he said softly, then leaned to whisper in her ear, “I’ll text you.”

“You’d better,” she whispered back.

He kissed her deeply then simply held her for a moment.

Mary smirked. “Okay, you two. It’s only for fourteen hours, not fourteen days.”

Molly grinned at her, still within the circle of Sherlock’s arms. “I seem to recall you and John having a swoon-worthy kiss the night before your wedding.”

“I was just happy he accepted me, warts and all.”

“‘Warts and all?’” Myrddin echoed, grinning.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Mary said, lightly smacking his arm. The mantle clock chimed midnight. “Okay, time to break up this little bash and divide the about-to-be-married couple.”

Molly gave Sherlock one last kiss then followed Sally out of the house.

“Are you nervous at all?” Sally asked when they were on the road.

“I thought I would be,” Molly said, smiling happily, “but I’m really not. I’m marrying the love of my life and we’re having a baby. The only thing that could make me happier would be having Mycroft and Anthea there.”

Sally nodded, her eyes on the road. “Anthea will be back, though probably not tomorrow. Every bureaucracy on Earth takes forever, Heaven’s probably takes even longer.”

* * *

“Could you repeat that, Captain? I must have misheard you,” Mycroft said. He’d schooled his expression to one of utter boredom, but inside he was panicking.

Dimmock rolled his eyes. “You heard me, but I’ll say it again – I reported you to Lady Elizabeth.”

“As I have done nothing wrong, what could you have possibly said?”

“I told her what you did to the major.”

Mycroft waved a hand in dismissal. “I have full authority to do as I wish with my subordinates.”

Dimmock smirked. “We’ll see.” He left the office without waiting to be dismissed.

As soon as the door closed, Mycroft put his head in his hands.

* * *

The moment Molly walked into their flat, she sent Sherlock a text.

_12:34a Miss you. Molly_

_12:35a I miss you too, love. There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep without you next to me. SH_

_12:37a It’s only for a night. You slept without me your entire life until a month ago. Molly_

_12:38a And you have changed me completely. SH_

_12:40a You’ve changed me too, Sherlock. Molly_

Sherlock was about to send another text when his phone rang. He pressed the button, smiling a bit. “I thought we were just going to text, love.”

“I know,” Molly said softly, “but I really needed to hear your voice.”

“What would you like me to say?” he asked, his voice low.

Molly groaned softly. “It doesn’t matter, I just need you to say it just like that.”

Sherlock chuckled. “You are the sun in my universe, Molly – my entire world revolves around you.”

She sighed happily. “I love you, Sherlock. I’ll see you at the church. Make sure the guys get you there on time.”

“Neither Hell, nor Heaven, nor all the powers on Earth can keep me from becoming your husband, Molly.” He smiled a bit. “Except perhaps John forgetting to set the alarm clock.” He delighted in her giggle. “I love you too.”

“Goodnight, sexy.”

“Goodnight, love.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding day and night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, I thought this day would never come! The story that would not end is finally done! First, I want to thank everyone who commented, favorited, left kudos, or answered my questions. All of you kept me from going bonkers over this story.

After reading _Jane Eyre_ for hours and falling asleep on the Watsons’ sofa, Sherlock woke the next morning to the feeling of a small hand patting his cheek over and over. He opened his eyes and met the deep blue pair belonging to Rosie, who giggled when she saw he was awake. He grinned at her. “Good morning, Rosie.” Sherlock reached out to lightly tickle her sides, the toddler’s giggles turning to squeals of laughter.

“She wanted to wake you,” Mary said from the doorway to the sitting room, amused. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Sherlock said, smiling happily as he sat up and held Rosie on his lap. “This little one is a sweetheart.” He grinned down at her. “You get that from your mummy, don’t you?”

“Mum-mum-mum-mum,” Rosie babbled in agreement.

“What about me?” John asked as he joined his wife in the doorway.

Sherlock smirked at him. “I suspect Rosie inherited her stubbornness from you.”

“I second that,” Mary said, grinning.

John chuckled. “That was inherited equally from both of us. Who wants eggs?”

“Me,” Sherlock said. He set Rosie down then got up and started searching the sitting room.

“Me,” Mary said. After John went into the kitchen, she looked back at Sherlock. “If you’re looking for your mobile, I confiscated it.” At his confused look, she added with a grin, “No texting or calling the bride before the ceremony. You can have it back at the reception.”

Sherlock pouted. “The tradition only covers seeing the bride.”

“I’m updating the tradition to include communicating with the bride.”

“You’re a cruel, cruel woman, Mary Watson.”

Mary just laughed.

* * *

Molly woke to the sound of purring. _Too soft to be Sherlock’s,_ she thought then opened her eyes to find Devil curled on Sherlock’s pillow. She reached out to stroke the kitten’s head. “Hi, sweetie,” she murmured. “Yeah, I miss Sherlock too.”

Devil rubbed his head against her hand, purring louder. Her phone chirped and Molly grinned.

“That must be him.” She picked it up then sighed quietly. “Not him.”

_8:03a This is your Wedding Day wake-up text. Good morning. :D MW_

_8:05a Good morning, Mary. I thought you were Sherlock. Molly_

_8:06a Sorry to disappoint. I’ve got his mobile so you won’t be hearing from him until the ceremony. MW_

_8:08a You knew he texted me last night, didn’t you? Molly_

_8:09a I assumed he would. I allowed it because last night was your first voluntary night apart. MW_

_8:11a So kind of you. :P Molly_

_8:12a LOL Sherlock’s feeding Rosie. I don’t know who’s having more fun, him or her. MW_

_8:14a Aww! He was born to be a father. Molly_

_8:15a Technically, he wasn’t born to be anything. MW_

_8:17a :P Yes, yes, angels are made, not born, but you know what I meant. Molly_

_8:18a I do, and I wholeheartedly agree. MW_

_8:20a What time are you and Sally coming over? Molly_

_8:21a Eleven. That’ll give us plenty of time to get you ready and get to the church. MW_

_8:23a Think the boys’ll be there on time? Molly_

_8:24a If they aren’t, I told John he’s sleeping on the couch for the rest of the year. MW_

* * *

By the time the Watsons’ mantle clock struck noon, Sherlock was at his wits’ end. All he could think about was Molly. Mary had left over an hour before to help Molly get ready. Sherlock had begged her for his phone but she had adamantly refused.

Now Sherlock, John, Greg, and Myrddin were seated around the Watson’s dining room table, with Rosie in her highchair. Rosie was happily eating toddler food while the men were eating pizzas Greg brought.

Except Sherlock. He was too busy trying to convince John to tell him where Mary had hidden his mobile.

Myrddin rolled his eyes. “Eat something, Father.”

“We can’t have you fainting at the altar from low blood sugar,” John added.

“That happened to a mate of mine,” Greg said. “He was too nervous to eat all day and ended up passing out just before the vows.”

“Missing one or two meals isn’t going to harm me at all,” Sherlock said petulantly. “Not knowing how Molly is doing might.”

“Mary’s got your phone, alright?” John said, exasperated. “So, I couldn’t give it to you even if I wanted to. Which, for the record, I don’t. I wanted us to have a nice, quiet meal together before the craziness starts.”

Myrddin took out his mobile. “What do you want to say to her?”

“Myrddin,” John warned sternly, “he’s not supposed to have any contact with her before the wedding, Mary’s orders.”

“Either I text Molly or we listen to him complain for the next two hours.” Myrddin smirked. “I won’t tell Mary if you don’t.” He turned back to Sherlock. “Well?”

Sherlock gave his son a grateful look. “Ask her how she is, what she’s doing right now, how close she is to being ready, and if she misses me as much as I miss her. Oh, and tell her I love her.”

Myrddin chuckled as he typed. “I’ll just tell her you love her and miss her.”

“I suppose that’ll do,” Sherlock muttered. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled a bit when Molly’s text came in. “She says she loves you too and can’t wait to see you.”

“That’s all?” Sherlock asked.

Myrddin chuckled. “Yes, Father.”

“Relax, Sherlock,” John said. “You’ll see her soon enough.”

“It’s never soon enough,” Sherlock muttered.

“Sherlock, it’s only been twelve hours,” Greg said patiently. “Think of what Myrddin’s going through.”

He glanced at his son guiltily. “Greg’s right, of course. I’m sorry, Myrddin.”

Myrddin smiled weakly. “It’s alright, Father. At least you know your torment will end soon. I have no idea when I’ll see Anthea again.”

“You didn’t say ‘if,’” John pointed out. “You’re that confident she’ll come back?”

“Yes. She’s a fighter, she’ll fight for us.”

* * *

At that moment, Anthea was at her desk, wondering where Mycroft was. _This is so unlike him. He’s never late, he’s never taken a day off, not in all the time I’ve known him._ She was jarred from her thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Anthea looked up, expecting Mycroft but seeing Dimmock.

She blinked in surprise. “Hello, Renatus.”

He smiled a bit. “Hello, Major. I just wanted to tell you not to expect Mycroft today.”

“Why not?”

“He’s being questioned by the Council of Elders.” Dimmock smirked. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s indicted before the end of the day.”

Anthea stared at him. “Indicted for what?”                                                                  

“Deception. He lied to you, Anthea – the legion has never needed any kind of payment in order to help someone, especially innocents like Dr. Hooper and her baby.”

“I thought maybe things had changed since I left,” she said quietly. “I was so naïve.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Dimmock said gently. “The truth will come out and then he’ll pay.”

_I have to tell Myrddin_. “Are you going back to Earth soon?”

“As soon as I leave here, actually.”

“Can you tell Myrddin what’s happening?”

“I’m sorry, the council won’t let me say anything about an ongoing investigation except to the people directly involved. I can tell Myrddin anything you want that has nothing to do with this.”

“Then, can you tell him I love him, I miss him, and I will see him soon?”

Dimmock smiled. “Sure. Anything else?”

“Not for Myrddin, but are you going to say anything to Sally?”

“No, not until this is over. It’s probably better for her that they didn’t go beyond flirting.”

Anthea blinked in surprise. “You think he won’t be allowed to go back to Earth?”

“It’s a strong possibility.”

* * *

“Are you sure he’ll like it?” Molly asked as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Her wedding gown was ivory silk with a full skirt, cap sleeves, and a square neckline. A sunflower yellow satin ribbon was around her waist, the ends of the bow trailing down the front of the gown. Molly’s hair hung in loose waves down her back.

“Of course,” Mary said as she pinned the veil to her hair. “You look like a princess.”

“Honestly, Holmes will happy if you show up in rags,” Sally said, grinning, “just as long as you show up. But yes, he will love you in this.” She was taking pictures and videos with her phone.

“I’m so glad you could come, Sally,” Molly said.

“I’m just happy to be included.” She smiled a bit. “The department’s not happy that Greg, Dimmock, and I took today and tomorrow off, but they’ll live. Plenty of other detectives around.”

Molly glanced at the clock on the wall. “One hour left.”

Mary smirked. “Sherlock’s probably climbing the walls.”

Sally’s phone chirped and she opened the text then grinned. “Speak of the devil – Greg says Holmes is a nervous wreck.”

Molly groaned quietly. “Does he think I’m going to leave him at the altar?”

Sally handed Molly her mobile. “Text him.” At Mary’s raised eyebrow, she added, “Before he drives everyone mad.”

Molly gave Sally a grateful look then started texting.

_1:03p Greg, can you pass your phone to Sherlock, please? Sally’s letting me text him. Molly_

_1:05p Sure thing. GL_

_1:05p Molly? Where are you? SH_

_1:08p At the church, in the Bride’s Room. Where are you? Molly_

_1:09p Stuck in bloody traffic! SH_

Molly looked up at Sally, confused. “Did Greg say they were stuck in traffic?”

Sally chuckled. “Just normal London congestion. Holmes is exaggerating.”

“Ah.” She turned back to the phone.

_1:12p It’ll be fine, sexy. It’s not like we can start the wedding without you. Molly_

_1:13p You’re sure you’re going to be there? SH_

“You did tell him you’re already at the church, right?” Mary asked, reading over Molly’s shoulder.

“I did, he’s just really nervous,” Molly said, smiling a bit.

_1:15p Nothing will keep me from becoming Mrs. Holmes. You’re stuck with me. Molly_

_1:16p That is music to my ears. I love you, Molly. SH_

_1:18p I love you too, Sherlock. Molly_

Half an hour later, the ladies were still waiting in the Bride’s Room for any sign that the men had arrived. Fr. Christopher stopped by and told them they can wait all day if necessary

“I once had a groom who decided to go skydiving the morning of his wedding,” he said, grinning. “He got stuck in a tree. I waited all day for him, I can wait for Sherlock.”

* * *

“Can’t you just transport us?” Sherlock asked his son. They were still twenty minutes from the church.

“You said you wanted to experience a human wedding,” Myrddin reminded him, “with no demonic or magical short-cuts.”

Sherlock groaned. “The next time I say something like that, remind me of today.”

“With pleasure,” John muttered from behind the wheel.

“Don’t mind him,” Greg said, grinning from the front passenger seat, “driving in London traffic always makes him surly.”

Dimmock was waiting for them outside the church when they finally arrived. Sherlock was out of the car before it had fully stopped.

“They’re waiting for us?” he asked quickly.

Dimmock grinned. “You thought they wouldn’t be? Go on in.”

Sherlock practically ran into the church, John and Greg following at a more leisurely pace, Greg recording the whole thing on his phone. He and Sally had volunteered to record the wedding since no professional photographers were available at the last minute.

Dimmock stopped Myrddin just before he entered the church. “I spoke to Anthea.”

Myrddin’s face lit up. “Is she coming?”

“Not today,” Dimmock said, wincing as Myrddin’s face fell, “but she said to tell you that she loves you and misses you.”

The wizard smiled sadly. “That part I already knew, but thanks, Renatus.”

“You’re welcome.” He followed Myrddin into the church then held back a laugh when he saw Sherlock looking around the sanctuary, the main part of the church, in confusion.

“It’s empty... Where are they?” Sherlock asked.

John rolled his eyes. “Sherlock, remember what Fr. Christopher said – it’s such a small wedding that we’re having it in the side chapel.”

“Right!” Sherlock ran to the side chapel and the others followed him.

Fr. Christopher was waiting at the altar and Sally was already seated in one of the pews. Greg, Myrddin, and Dimmock took seats near her. Sherlock’s eyes darted around as he made his way to the front, John right behind him.

“I’m very glad you could make it, Sherlock,” Fr. Christopher said, smiling a bit.

“Sorry, Fr. Christopher. Too much traffic.” Sherlock took his place beside the priest then John stood on his other side.

Fr. Christopher chuckled. “Believe me, I’ve heard it all. You’re not even in the running for the tardiest groom I’ve ever had.”

John snickered beside him but Sherlock just rolled his eyes. From a hidden speaker, Pachelbel’s “Canon in D” started playing and Mary made her way down the aisle.

“Isn’t my wife beautiful?” John murmured, his eyes never leaving Mary.

“Mrs. Watson is beautiful,” Sherlock admitted, “but if you ask me, the title of ‘most beautiful’ goes to the about-to-be Mrs. Holmes.”

John chuckled. “I should hope so, mate.”

Every head turned to look as Molly walked up the aisle. Sherlock tried to take in every detail – a bouquet of sunflowers, pearl drop earrings, her mother’s strand of pearls around her neck – but gave up when he saw her dazzling smile.

_That’s what will stay with me for the rest of our lives._

* * *

Molly tried to focus on the priest’s words, she really did, but Sherlock captured her full attention. _Damn, he looks so good in a tuxedo. I can’t believe how much I love this man._

“Sherlock Holmes, do you take Molly for your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do,” Sherlock said, his voice rough with emotion.

“Molly Alice Hooper, do you take Sherlock for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do,” she said happily.

“Sherlock and Molly have declared their consent to be married and thus are now husband and wife,” Fr. Christopher said. “I ask the Lord to bless you both. What God joins together, let no one put asunder.” He looked at John and Mary. “May I have the rings?”

Mary gave him Sherlock’s ring. John searched his pockets, panic dawning on his face.

“Not again,” he muttered.

Myrddin rolled his eyes. “You left it on the sofa, again.” He tossed the ring box to him.

“You just wanted to see me panic,” John muttered as he opened the box and gave Fr. Christopher the ring.

“Guilty,” Myrddin said, smirking.

Fr. Christopher blessed the rings then gave Sherlock Molly’s ring. Sherlock’s hands were trembling so much that he nearly dropped the ring before sliding it onto Molly’s bare ring finger.

“Molly,” he murmured, “receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.”

“Louder,” Greg said, grinning. “We can’t hear you.”

“Molly, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity,” Sherlock said loudly.

Molly giggled and the priest smiled a bit. Molly slipped the ring onto Sherlock’s left ring finger then gazed up at him. “Sherlock, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.”

Sherlock winked at her, grinning.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Sherlock leaned down to kiss Molly softly and she responded eagerly. Molly vaguely heard her friends applauding but then her husband’s lips commanded all of her attention. _Husband… I could get used to this…_

When they felt the need for air, and were tired of their friends’ “get a room” remarks, they pulled back and gazed at each other. “I love you,” they said at the same time.

* * *

“A toast to Mr. and Mrs. Holmes,” John said, smiling happily as he held up his champagne flute. The friends were gathered in the Watsons’ backyard. Sherlock had asked his and Molly’s favorite Chinese restaurant to cater and Myrddin had put a privacy spell on the yard to keep anyone from overhearing them. “As my Irish grandfather used to say, ‘May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings, slow to make enemies, quick to make friends, but rich or poor, quick or slow, may you know nothing but happiness from this day forward.’”

“Hear, hear,” Mary said, grinning, and everyone clinked glasses.

Greg turned to Myrddin. “What about you, Myrddin? Any good toasts from your time?”

Myrddin chuckled. “I’m afraid all the toasts I know are too risqué for a wedding.” He smiled at Sherlock and Molly. “But I do wish my father, stepmother, and baby-” Myrddin trailed off, his eyes glazing over for a moment, then he shook his head a bit and grinned at them, “-sister a lifetime of love.”

Everyone stared at him, Molly and Sherlock with their mouths open.

“How is that possible?” Sherlock asked, dumbfounded.

Myrddin smirked. “When two people love each other very much…”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Campions are almost always boys.”

“Like you said, ‘almost always.’” Myrddin chuckled. “There are exceptions.”

“Only one that I’ve heard of,” Sherlock said, “until now.”

Molly looked at him. “Did you want a boy?”

Sherlock thought for a moment. “There’s a point where the demon can choose the baby’s gender. Campions are normally conceived because the demon is under orders. Hell always needs more soldiers, thus the demon would choose for the baby to be a boy.” He smiled a bit. “Unlike Heaven, Hell is rather sexist about who can serve in its army. I didn’t choose, I just assumed the baby would be a boy.”

“Well, I’m happy as long as the baby’s healthy.” Molly took his hand, smiling softly. “A girl, Sherlock. A daughter.”

He grinned at her. “I hope she looks just like you.”

“I hope she has your hair,” she said, grinning back.

“They’ll be at this all night, you know,” John muttered, but he couldn’t help a smile.

Mary smirked. “If that’s what you think, then you forget what newlyweds do on their wedding night.”

Greg chuckled. “I recall the two of you doing nothing but kissing at your reception.”

“We did other things too,” John insisted.

“Yes, like kiss on the dance floor,” Molly said, grinning.

Myrddin laughed. “Now that sounds like a wedding feast from my time.”

“What was the last one you went to?” Sherlock asked, curious.

“Arthur and Guinevere’s.” He sighed quietly. “Their marriage was a mistake, but that feast was the most fun any of us in Arthur’s court would have for a long time.”

“You can’t leave it at that, Myrddin,” Sally said eagerly. “Tell us more.”

“Did you have a vision about the fate of their marriage?” Dimmock asked.

Myrddin smiled sadly. “No, I saw how she looked at Lancelot at the betrothal feast – it told me all I needed to know about how faithful she’d be. I kept telling Arthur she’d make a cuckold out of him. Even on the way to the church that morning, I told him it wasn’t too late to back out, but Arthur wouldn’t listen. They say love is blind, but in Arthur’s case, it was also in denial.”

“If Arthur came back,” Mary said, “do you think he’d still be in love with Guinevere or would he try to find someone else?”

Myrddin chuckled. “If Arthur came back, I think he’d be too busy saving England to think about his personal life.”

Dimmock went over to Sally. “I’m sorry Mycroft couldn’t be here.”

Sally smiled a bit. “Yeah? No one else is, except me.” She sipped her champagne. “I only knew the guy a few hours but he got under my skin. I was kinda hoping I’d gotten under his but it doesn’t look like it.”

“He’s … tied up at the moment.” Dimmock looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“You don’t need to lie for him, Dimmock. If he really wanted to be here, he’d be here.” Sally smiled weakly. “It’s okay, I’m used to being rejected.”

“That’s really not the case, Sally. I wish I could tell you what’s going on but I’m not authorized.”

Sally raised an eyebrow but when he didn’t say anything else, she let the matter drop.

Mary grinned at Sherlock. “By the way, your mobile is in the last place you’d look.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Is that a clue?”

Mary just grinned wider.

Molly went over to one of the picnic tables, which had an impressive pile of gifts. A gift basket caught her eye – a bottle of sparkling apple juice, a bottle of champagne, and a white teddy bear with white wings and a gold plastic bow and arrow. Sherlock approached her and wrapped an arm around her.

“Interesting gift,” he said. “Who’s it from?”

Molly showed him the tag, smiling a bit.

_To the Doctor, the Colonel, and the Baby,_

_All the best._

_Seb_

“Ah, your new best friend, I see,” Sherlock said, smiling a bit.

She grinned at him. “Jealous, husband?”

He chuckled. “Hardly – he has your friendship while I have your love.”

John came over to them, smiling as he pointed out some of the other gifts. “The two in the white rose wrapping paper are from me and Mary. You can open those after the honeymoon. The bride-and-groom dolls are from Rosie, she picked them out herself.”

“And she insisted that we not wrap them,” Mary said as she joined her husband. “Every time I tried, she’d rip the paper off.”

Molly giggled. “She’s definitely your kid – wants everything her own way.”

John smirked. “Just wait until your little girl comes along.” He turned to Sherlock. “I can see you in about fifteen years, putting the fear of God into her dates.”

Sherlock laughed. “She’s not dating until she’s fifty.”

“Yeah, right, like that will hold,” Mary said, laughing. “She’ll have you wrapped around her little finger, just like Rosie and John.”

“Are you implying I’m at our daughter’s beck and call?” John asked, smiling a bit.

“Are you implying that you’re not?” Mary countered, grinning.

Dimmock came over. “I don’t have anything physical to give you, but I want you both to know that if you ever need my help, I’ll be there.”

“That means a lot to us, Renatus,” Sherlock said. “Thank you.” He shook the angel’s hand.

“The reverse is also true,” Molly said, smiling. “We’ll always help our friends.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Dimmock said.

Sally came over to them, grinning. “You’ll want to take my gift with you, it’s for the honeymoon.”

“Is it okay if we open it now?” Molly asked.

“Sure,” she said, still grinning, “as long as you’re okay with blushing in front of everyone.”

There were two wrapped boxes, Molly gave Sherlock the one with his name on it then opened hers. It was a teal blue silk and lace negligee. Like Sally had predicted, she couldn’t help blushing a bit. Looking over at Sherlock, she saw him remove light grey silk pajamas from his box. He was blushing too.

Molly grinned at Sally. “Thank you! I know we’re going to love these.”

“You’re welcome.” Sally looked at Sherlock, smirking. “Got anything to say, Holmes?”

“Yes, er, thank you,” Sherlock said, his blush deepening when Sally giggled.

Greg smirked. “Technically, mine’s for Molly but I think both of you will like it.”

Intrigued, Molly opened Greg’s gift. It was a handmade book of coupons. She raised an eyebrow at him after reading the first one. “‘Good for one husband-free evening’?”

“For when he’s getting on your very last nerve,” Greg said, grinning. “Redeem it and I promise to take him to the pub.”

“Ooo, you’ll need that when the pregnancy hormones kick in,” Mary said. “Can you make me one of those, Greg?”

Greg chuckled. “Sure, when you’re having your next kid.”

“So, that’ll be now.”

Everyone stared at her and Mary beamed back.

John muttered, “How did I miss the signs … again?”

Mary laughed softly. “I’ve only known myself for a couple of days. I kept looking for the right time to tell you, this was the first one to present itself.” She wrapped her arms around her husband. “We did talk about making Rosie a big sister.”

He wrapped his arms around her, looking dazed but happy. “We did … and I’m glad it’s happening.”

Myrddin grinned. “If no one else has an announcement to make, I think it’s time the newlyweds had their first dance.” He waved his hand and music started to play.

Sherlock and Molly smiled at each other when they realized it was a violin version of “Hungry Eyes.” Sherlock looked at his son, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that me playing?” he asked.

“Yes, I had a vision of you playing it when you were feeling jealous,” Myrddin said, his grin widening. “I thought it would be good to associate that moment with a better feeling.”

“Thank you, Myrddin.” Sherlock held out his hand to his wife. “May I have this dance, Mrs. Holmes?”

“Yes, Mr. Holmes.” Molly took his hand and he pulled her into a proper ballroom hold as they danced on the lawn. She gazed at her husband. _I wish this day would never end._ “Are you thinking about the first time we danced to this song?” Molly asked softly.

“I am,” he murmured. “I saw you swaying to the music and I wanted nothing more than to move with you.” Sherlock chuckled. “After waiting for so long-”

“Try three weeks,” she said softly, amused. “Hardly a long time.”

He smiled a bit and lowered his head to murmur, “I’m a hedonist, love. Until I met you, I had never denied myself any sort of pleasure. It took time for me to realize you were worth waiting for. You’re the only thing I’ve ever waited for.”

“I’m honored, Sherlock,” she murmured, smiling fondly. “I was the opposite – I was so tempted to give in several times.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, both of us needed it to be at the right moment.”

“You two know the song’s over, right?” John asked loudly, smirking.

Sherlock and Molly laughed. “We got caught up in the moment,” Sherlock said.

Myrddin chuckled. “I think it’s time to hear from some other artists.”

Molly’s iPod and speaker appeared on the table with the gifts and “Can’t Help Falling In Love” started playing. Sherlock noticed a flash of pain on his son’s face then it was gone.

He looked at Molly. “Will you excuse me a moment, love? I want to talk to Myrddin about Devil.”

“Sure.” She smiled gently. “Let him know I’m sorry Anthea’s not with us.”

Sherlock chuckled. “I can’t fool you, can I?”

She softly kissed his cheek. “No, and don’t you forget it, sexy.” Molly giggled as she walked over to Mary and Sally.

Sherlock walked over to his son, who had moved to the buffet table. “Molly and I are sorry Anthea couldn’t be here,” he said gently.

Myrddin was filling his plate with Crab Rangoon and egg rolls. “Thank you, Father,” he said quietly, then he glanced at the iPod. “I didn’t plan for our song to be the first one to come up. I was hoping she’d make it, she didn’t want to miss this.”

“I wanted to tell you I’m proud of you.” Sherlock smiled a bit at Myrddin’s wide eyes. “You’ve shown true respect for Anthea. You always do what needs to be done, even going to Hell for me. You even saved an enemy’s life.”

Myrddin smiled a bit. “I’m not sure we can call Sebastian an enemy, but thank you, Father, that means a lot to me.”

Sherlock looked at his son for a moment. “Myrddin … would you consider calling me ‘Dad?’”

Myrddin stared at him, an egg roll halfway to his mouth. “I … um … wow…”

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock said quickly. “Since I didn’t raise you, I probably have no right to that title, but I was hoping-”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s-” Myrddin laughed weakly. “It was rough growing up without a father. Mother hated you but I kept hoping you’d come back for me someday. After she died, I convinced myself you were never coming back.”

“How old were you when she died?” Sherlock asked gently.

“Fourteen. Then came Vortigern and a pair of dragons, but that’s me getting off-course.” He smiled weakly. “You couldn’t be there for me before, but I’m glad you’re here for me now. As for calling you ‘Dad,’ as far as I’m concerned, you are my dad, but I’m more comfortable calling you ‘Father,’ if that’s alright.”

Sherlock found himself blinking away happy tears. “That … that’s fine.” A few tears slipped out when Myrddin hugged him tightly and Sherlock hugged him back. He chuckled. “Are you sure you’re alright with cat-sitting Devil?”

Myrddin laughed. “I’m the most powerful wizard in history, I think I can handle a kitten for a week.”

“Just don’t make him talk,” John said as he came over to them, smirking.

Myrddin rolled his eyes. “I give one piglet the power of speech and no one ever lets me forget it.”

“A talking piglet?” Sherlock asked. “No, on second thought, I don’t want to know.”

Greg came over to them after filling his plate. “You’re still keeping the honeymoon a secret from Molly?”

Sherlock smiled a bit. “Yes. She told me her father took her to all the Arthurian sites in Britain but never to anything dated after Arthur. She’s always wanted to see Warwick Castle and Stratford-upon-Avon but never had the chance, so that’s where we’re going.”

“What about that trip to Paris you were talking about?” John asked.

“We decided to save that for our first anniversary. Since this wedding was so last-minute, we didn’t have time to plan for a trip out of the country.”

* * *

It was in their hired car on the way to their first honeymoon destination that Sherlock decided to finally tell his wife his last secret. “Molly,” he started carefully, his eyes never leaving the road as he drove, “there’s something I need to tell you. I should have told you before the wedding but the right time never presented itself.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Sherlock, if you’re about to pull a Mr. Rochester on me…”

Sherlock chuckled. “No crazy wife in the attic, I promise.”

She reached over to lay a hand on his knee, saying softly, “Then whatever it is, it can’t be as horrible as you think it is.”

“It’s not … horrible. Certainly not as horrible as my committing bigamy would be.” He took a deep breath. “I have a sister.” He looked over at her briefly, noting her apparent surprise but not shock, then turned back to the road. “You’re taking it better than I thought you would.”

Molly smiled a bit. “You don’t exactly have an ordinary family, so you having more than one sibling isn’t shocking. I’m just wondering why I haven’t met her yet. Was she created before or after the Fall?”

“Before. Eurus is a year younger than me.”

“Eurus? That sounds like a boy’s name.”

Sherlock smiled a bit. “There was a mix-up but Eurus liked her name and decided to keep it.”

“Did she rebel like you or stay put like Mycroft?” Molly asked gently.

Sherlock sighed heavily. “Eurus and I were best friends before the Fall. She wanted to be just like me. When I rebelled, she did too, but when she Fell, we don’t know what happened to her.”

Molly stared at him. “She didn’t end up in Hell?”

“No. Believe me, I looked. Mycroft has been searching for her all this time but even he can’t find her. Myrddin has offered to help too.”

“You’re sure she’s still alive?”

“She’s not among the dead souls of Heaven or Hell, we’ve checked.” He swallowed hard. “My little sister is still alive and has been alone for three thousand, eight hundred, and seventy-seven years.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Molly said gently. “Maybe she made friends.”

“Eurus always had a delicate psyche. It was very hard for her to trust anyone besides myself and Mycroft. If she has opened up enough to make friends, I think we would have heard about it by now. No, she’s alone.”

She gently squeezed his knee. “We’ll find her, Sherlock.”

“Thank you, love.” Sherlock gave her a brief smile before turning back to the road. “Did I just ruin the mood?”

“I don’t think you could ever ruin the mood, sexy,” Molly said, smiling a bit, “but even if you did, you certainly would know how to fix it.”

Sherlock chuckled. “Your unwavering faith in my powers of seduction is appreciated, Molly.”

She giggled. “Are you the first incubus to get married?”

“I’m certainly not the first incubus to fall in love, but I believe I am the first to take it this far.” He smirked. “Heaven only knows if I’ll make a good husband.”

“Not just Heaven,” Molly said, smiling softly. “I know you’ll be a good one, that’s why I said yes.”

“And here I thought you were simply caught up in the moment.”

“Oh yes, I was so caught up in my demon lover proposing that I said yes without thinking.” She laughed softly. “I can’t even say it with a straight face. The question and the answer may have seemed spontaneous, but it really was just us coming to the most natural conclusion.”

“Hardly a conclusion, love,” Sherlock said, a soft smile on his lips. “You and I are far from over.”

“That’s what I love to hear.” She looked out at the passing scenery then back at him. “Are you still not going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the P.

“Insufferable demon,” she muttered fondly.

Sherlock laughed.

* * *

“Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, welcome to Warwick Castle,” a beaming man in his early fifties said as Sherlock helped Molly out of the car. “I’m Mr. Richards, the property manager. I hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said, grinning at Molly’s slack-jawed response to their surroundings.

Molly gazed at the castle in wonder. “Oh, Sherlock…” she murmured. “I’ve always wanted to come here but never had a chance.”

“Then you are really going to enjoy your stay, Mrs. Holmes,” Mr. Richards said. “Mr. Holmes reserved a week for you in the Rose Suite. If you like, I’ll have one of the boys take your bags there while one of our historians gives you the VIP tour.”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Molly said.

After the guided tour, which Molly only heard about half of since Sherlock kept distracting her with heated glances, Mr. Richards took them to Caesar’s Tower, the castle’s tallest. After climbing a winding staircase, they came to a heavy oak door with a large rose carved on it.

“The Rose Suite,” Mr. Richards said proudly. He unlocked the door and opened it then turned to the newlywed couple. “This is where I bid you goodnight. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call the concierge, there’s always one available.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said.

As soon as Mr. Richards was out of sight, Sherlock swooped a giggling Molly into his arms and carried her over the threshold. She kissed him deeply, only stopping when he gently set her on her feet. Molly looked around the room, her jaw dropping.

“Oh my God,” she murmured. “It’s like we went back to the 16th Century.”

Sherlock chuckled. “Yes, except for the electricity, the Wi-Fi signal, and the modern bathroom.”

The spacious room was dominated by a king-size 4 poster bed complete with canopy, curtains, and decorative pillows, all in deep rose pink silk. A large stone fireplace dominated an adjoining wall and in front of it were an ornately carved table and two matching chairs. A large wooden chest was at the foot of the bed. There was a vanity on the other side of the bed and a large full-length mirror beside the vanity.

Molly turned to gaze at her husband as she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you for this, Sherlock. This means so much to me.”

“You’re welcome, love,” he murmured as he held her close. Sherlock knew he could be content with just holding his wife forever, but he also knew that wasn’t what this night was about. He softly kissed her hair, his hands sliding down her back to cup her bum through the sundress she’d changed into before they left.

Molly shivered in his arms then he felt her leave a trail of kisses across his collarbone and up his neck, then he heard her groan in frustration when even the three-inch heels of her dress sandals didn’t make her tall enough to reach his lips.

Sherlock chuckled softly. “Shall I help you with that, Molly?” He lowered his head, his mouth claiming hers in a deep kiss.

Molly kissed him back, sighing into his mouth, her hands moving to the waistband of his trousers. “I need you now, Sherlock… Don’t make me wait…”

“What about Sally’s present?” he asked, smiling a bit. “It would be a shame to have it go to waste.”

“Mmm, good point.” She retrieved the negligee from her suitcase then paused and turned to him, grinning, after she opened his. “Mary left this for you,” she said as she tossed him his mobile.

Sherlock chuckled. “She’s quite a character.” He slipped it into the pocket of his jacket.

Molly then gave Sherlock his pajamas before disappearing into the bathroom.

Sherlock chuckled as he took off the usual suit and dress shirt he’d changed into then donned the pajamas. _Almost as soft as Molly’s skin._ He glanced at himself in the mirror. _Not bad._

He heard the bathroom door open and turned to see Molly in the doorway. The silk negligee showed off every curve of her petite frame and the deep V of the lacy neckline revealed more of her breasts than she was used to, if the nervous way she was biting her lower lip was anything to go by.

Sherlock approached her, murmuring, “You look like a dream, Molly.” He gently wrapped his arms around her waist. “Like every one of my dreams come true.”

“It’s not too much?” she asked, her hands slowly sliding up his arms. “I know you’ve seen me in a lot less, but I’m not sure if this is me. I’m more pixie than vixen.”

“You, my love, are the sexiest pixie and the sweetest vixen I have ever met.” He smiled a bit. “This suits you, just as your cotton nightgown with the cartoon devils all over it suits you.”

Molly giggled. “I bought that on a whim.”

“Your sense of whimsy is one of the things I love most about you.” He softly kissed her forehead. “You’re an incredibly sexy woman, Molly, as well as incredibly sweet, and incredibly loving.” Sherlock smiled a bit. “You captured the heart and attention of an incubus, don’t tell me you’re not a vixen.”

“You think of me that way?” she murmured, her eyes curious.

Sherlock lowered his head to murmur in her ear, “You bewitch me and I am more than happy to be under your spell.” When she shivered, he pulled back enough to gaze at her. “Some might say your sexiness is subtle, but believe me, love, I noticed it right away.” He raised a hand to stroke her cheek. “If you want to be a siren for me, in the privacy of our bedroom, I will fully support that. If you decide it’s too much for you, I will fully support that too. Above all, I want you to be comfortable.”

“I’m always comfortable with you, Sherlock,” she murmured. Molly looked down at herself then back up at him. “I think maybe I can try being a vixen.”

He smiled at her encouragingly. “What does that mean to you, love?”

“Being assertive,” she murmured, a twinkle in her eye. “Taking what I want and leaving you satisfied but also wanting more.”

“Mmm, I am yours to command, mistress.” He gazed at her adoringly, his arms falling to his sides.

Molly couldn’t help a giggle. “That sounds familiar.” She smirked at him, her eyes dancing as she slowly ran a fingertip down his chest. “So, tell me, demon, whatever shall I do with you?”

“Anything you want,” he murmured. “I am open to anything and everything.”

“Mmm, I just bet you are.” She unbuttoned the first button on his pajama top, kissing and licking the revealed skin.

Sherlock shivered, his hands coming up to hold her hips. “I could undress us both in less than a heartbeat. Would that suit you better, mistress?”

“No,” she murmured as she undid the next button. “I want to take this slow, make you ache for it.” She kissed and licked a trail down his chest as she slowly opened his top.

“I **am** aching,” he murmured. “I always ache for you.”

“Then let me see what I can do about that ache,” she murmured as she slid the top off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it fall to the floor. Molly smiled a bit. “I am a doctor, after all.”

Sherlock laughed softly but all laughter stopped when she dropped to her knees in front of him. She slowly lowered his pajama bottoms until his fully-hard cock sprung free.

“Ooo, my mouth waters just looking at you,” she purred. She slid the pajama bottoms down his legs until they puddled at his feet and Sherlock stepped out of them. Molly wrapped her small hand around his shaft, murmuring, “With a cock this massive, you must please a lot of ladies.”

“Only one now,” Sherlock murmured hoarsely. “The one who holds my heart.”

“Your heart, your cock, and any other body part I can get my hands on,” she said, smirking.

She leaned in to give the tip a slow lick then he was picking her up and laying her on the bed before she could blink. Sherlock covered her negligee-clad body with his naked one, slowly pulling the hem up to gather at her waist. He held himself above her, gazing down at her intently.

“Forgive me, but I couldn’t take another moment,” he murmured.

“So, the incubus doesn’t like to be teased?” she asked, smirking.

“Not when I’m already so on-edge. You were driving me mad, mistress.”

She smiled knowingly. “I barely touched you.”

“You didn’t have to.” He lowered his head but just as his lips brushed hers, she pushed him onto his back.

Molly wasted no time in straddling Sherlock’s hips. She grinned down at his surprised face. “This is me having my wicked way with you, remember?”

A grin slowly spread across his face as he gazed up at her. “As you command.”

“Mmm…” She guided him to her dripping entrance then slowly lowered herself onto him, a low groan escaping from her lips.

Sherlock held her hips as she started to ride him, her hands on his chest to steady herself and he met her thrust for thrust. “Mistress, I would very much like to see all of you.”

“Tough,” she murmured breathlessly. She was looking down at him with a gleam in her eyes that he knew very well.

“So, there is a devil in you,” he murmured.

She grinned. “More than one right now.”

Sherlock chuckled. “God, I love you…”

“I love you too,” Molly murmured. She leaned lower, the change in angle driving her over the edge and she came with a shout.

It only took a few more thrusts before Sherlock found his own release, moaning her name loudly.

She slowly slid off him then stretched out beside him, still breathing heavily. When her breathing returned to normal, she turned to him, grinning. “I hope we don’t get a noise complaint.”

Sherlock laughed. “If we do, we’ll just tell them it’s our wedding night, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Molly moved to take her negligee off but Sherlock stilled her hands. “I like seeing you in it,” he murmured. “Your body is a work of art, the negligee is the frame right now.”

She folded her arms on his chest then rested her chin on them, grinning at him. “Should I invest in a few more?”

“For special occasions, perhaps.” He grinned. “I still like having you wear nothing at all to bed most of the time.”

She chuckled. “I’m glad to hear our policy of sex every night isn’t going to change now that we’re a boring old married couple.”

“We’re definitely married but never boring and only one of us is old.”

Molly grinned. “You were created four thousand years ago, Sherlock, but you are far from old.”

“I’m glad to hear you’ll still flatter me.”

“It’s not flattery when it’s the truth.” She kissed him softly. “I love you, my brave, vulnerable, gentle, determined, generous, and loving husband.”

“And I love you, my surprising, kind-hearted, and devoted wife. You’re my life, Molly. Today is just the start of our lifetime together.”

“I hope it never ends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John's toast is a traditional Irish toast and one I feel is so pretty. I had to fudge the Catholic wedding ceremony a bit since I've never been to one that wasn't a Mass and the online search I did only resulted in the vows, not the whole thing. The bits from Myrddin's past are from Michael Wood's "In Search of Myths & Heroes" and "The Illustrated Encyclopaedia of Arthurian Legends" by Ronan Coghlan. Warwick Castle really does have two tower suites available to rent. I took information from their website and added/changed a few details.
> 
> Everyone will be back in the next Incubus!Sherlock story, tentatively titled Quest.


End file.
